Chapter Text
“Mind if I join you?”
Bruce looked away from the sight of the sun setting over the horizon when he heard the voice and he was surprised to see the teenager that both Clint and Natasha had claimed to be their son.
Not with each other but they still see the boy as theirs.
Bruce does not know what to make of the situation. He knew there had been an attraction between him and Natasha and he is not foolish enough to deny the allure that the Black Widow held but he is also not foolish enough to blindly give into it. He knew just how deadly she is and how her beauty had trapped many people into her webs.
But he had never thought for it to be a mutual thing.
Natasha is a wonderful woman despite how she could probably kill someone with only her pinky finger and she could have anyone she wanted if she put her effort into it. So it had been a surprise for him to have her not only returning his feeling but also accepting of his alter ego.
Perhaps it was because she is sharing living space with a pack of werewolves and-gosh is that a huge surprise that he is still trying to digest- are used to creature that could spontaneously change into killing machine when provoked, which lead her to be more receptive of the green rage monster that he become when angered.
It might not be the fantastical love that Disney often portrayed but the attraction between them are undeniable.
It is genuine.
It is real.
So it had felt like a punch to the gut to know she already have a son, even if it is not a biological one. Bruce is not the type to discriminate single parent, God no with his own mother basically being a single mother to him and what with his father being the abusive man he was.
But the reminder of children hurt him more than anything else.
Bruce knew that the possibility of him having his own child had been instantly forfeited when he first became the Hulk. There is too high of a risk that his mutated gene could be passed down to his own offspring and he would never wish that kind of life to anyone and definitely not his own flesh and blood. Besides, there is also the possibility of him being sterile since no one could possibly be receptive of his mutated seeds.
Though that did not stop him from wishing that he could have a child of his own with the person he loves, with Natasha, but that possibility is basically null because she too had been sterilized during her time in the Red Room. Both of them could never have their own flesh and blood because life had been cruel enough to take away their ability to have it.
He often dreamt of a child with Natasha’s red hair and his curliness along with his own brown eyes and her pale skin. And he would always wake up from that dream with tears in his eyes and a throbbing ache in his chest.
But Natasha already has this boy that she had claimed as her own.
He wondered just how is it that this boy had come under her wing but both Clint and Natasha had been tightlipped about it, their eyes clouded with immense grief and he had immediately backed away at the sight of it, knowing that it is not something that he would be willing to face.
Not yet.
He knew that the teen was Coulson’s nephew from what Laura had said, so that makes him to be the son of Coulson’s sibling. Maybe the two SHIELD agents knew the boy’s parents but it still does not explain how the boy had ended up with them. He can understand if the teen is under Coulson’s care but the man himself had died two years ago and Bruce could not help but wonder just what had happened to the boy’s parents.
“I can basically see the gears turning in your head, even hear the grinding too. Mamachka is right, you mad scientists tend to overthink things. You can just ask me if you’re that curious you know. Dad and Mamachka wouldn’t tell you anything no matter what you do.”
He was once again pulled away from his thoughts by the teenager who had settled beside him and Bruce blinked at the steaming mug of hot chocolate being offered to him. It even has tiny marshmallows floating in it.
The teen grew frustrated by his staring though and had manually handed it to him by making Bruce wrap his hands around the warm mug mechanically. Bruce did not stop staring at the boy though and that earned him a frustrated glare from the teenaged boy.
“I know you’re together with Mamachka.”
Bruce tensed upon hearing it from the boy because his relationship with Natasha had always been a secret amongst the Avengers, a secret that everyone knows but never spoke of. But then again it should not be surprising if he knew about it, this boy is basically her son, he would not be surprised if the assassin duo had taught him a thing or two about picking up on small details.
“Relax, I wouldn’t do the plain old speech about castrating if you hurt her and that’s only because I know she would do it herself if you do but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t add up to it.”
The lopsided grin that curled on the teen’s full lips looked so achingly similar to Clint that he can see just how this boy is their son despite there being no shared biology between the three of them, even the slant of his liquid amber eyes reminded him of Natasha.
This teen is definitely their son.
“So, when am I going to start calling you Tyatya? Or perhaps Father if you want something more formal. Not dad though, that’s Clint’s. He would flip if I call you that too. I can do Papa too if you want it.”
The sudden blurt of questions have his head spinning though because he did not expect it to begin with. He did not expect for the son that both Natasha and Clint had claimed as their own to be accepting of his relationship with Natasha. He did not expect for the boy to accept him, a man who caused so much destruction when angered, into his life and the family he already has.
And he did not expect that he would one day have the chance to be called a father to a child, even if it is by the adoptive son of his lover.
“What?”
Was the only response he can get out from his suddenly brain dead head and the boy looked as if he is stuck between amused or frustrated at Bruce’s lack of reaction.
“The marriage. When are you going to ask for my Mamachka’s hand? You’re going to ask her to marry you, right? This is not one of those onetime thing fling, right? I like you, I really do and Hulk is cool too and I wouldn’t mind having you as my second dad. Okay that sound so wrong in so many weird ways. Would that make you and Dad one of those gay parents? That would be cool too and I can totally tell people I have Hulk and Hawkeye as my parents but that would definitely confuse them since Dad already have Mum and you’re with Mamachka already but yeah, as I was saying, I wouldn’t mind having you as my Tyatya.”
It took him a moment to make sense of what the boy had suddenly babbled to him, a very long moment since the boy had been going off tangent from one topic to another but when he does manage to understand it, the boy had reverted from the loud flailing limbs to this silent fidgety bundle of anxiety beside him.
“Sorry, I got too excited sometimes and began to talk nonsense. Just ignore what I said, those are my usual rambling when I got stupid ideas in my head. Don’t worry about it!”
The teen is obviously trying to laugh it off and play it cool but Bruce could see the embarrassment and hurt shining in those liquid amber eyes that are surprisingly so expressive, especially when he factored in who his adoptive parents are.
Bruce internally smacked himself for taking too long to understand and also for being so awkward. Of course the boy would shy away when his earlier enthusiasm was met with only dead unresponsive silence. He out of all people should have known that better than anyone else.
He saw the boy moving to stand up, obviously attempting to retreat now after having embarrassed himself but Bruce would have none of that. He does not want to end up leaving a bad first impression to Natasha’s son, whom like the boy had said, would also be his son if he ever asked Natasha to marry him.
Reaching out, Bruce caught the teen’s arm before he could fully stand up and the boy looked at him with curiosity despite the embarrassed redness painting his pale cheeks.
“Stay. Please.”
Bruce could not help but cringe at how stilted the words come out as and he could only hope that this boy did not take it the wrong way. God, he is hoping the ground would just open up and swallow him whole right now.
Awkward silence fall over them like thick blanket that threatened to smother them both and Bruce heaved a soft sigh of relief when the boy slowly sit down again beside him. But now that he had managed to stop the boy from leaving, he does not know what to say to him, he had always been so awkward in situation like this and his usually fluent tongue felt like lead in his mouth.
At the boy’s pointed glance and not so subtle tugging of his own arm, Bruce immediately released the arm that he had caught in his grasp during his attempt to stop the boy from leaving. He quickly mumbled an apology whilst doing so, skirting a glance to the teenager’s way before returning his gaze to his still steaming mug of hot chocolate.
There is a lot of things going through his mind at the moment, more so after what the boy had blurted out at him not too long ago but before he could go any further with his own question, he felt like he owes the boy an apology for his earlier rude silence.
“Sorry about before…I am honestly helpless in this kind of situation. You just surprised me, that’s all and I’m honestly not the type to talk much. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Bruce tried to smile but the muscles of his face are not being particularly receptive at the moment and the smile comes out as a tightlipped grimace.
God help him.
He is making the situation worse.
“Hey man. It’s cool. Dad always said I talked enough for everyone. So don’t worry about offending me, I’m too thickheaded to be easily offended by people. Though I has to apologize about creeping you out with my nonsensical rambling, I do that a lot too.”
A sort of unspoken ease had fallen over them upon the return of the boy’s insistent talking and Bruce could live with this. He would rather see this hyperactive and spastic teen talk like this than the earlier closed off timidity.
It is unnerving, much like seeing how easily Natasha had slipped on one of her many persona on like a second skin.
“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, cutting through the teen’s off tangent rambling about the validity of using vortex as the center focus of an energy well.
“Yeah-wait. What? Sure about what? I am sure about a lot of things, including my own sexual preferences but you will have to clear that up for me before I go down questionable line of thoughts. You don’t want that. Believe me, you don’t. Mamachka did say I has a rather vivid way of making things more complicated.”
For some reason though, hearing him ramble about it made his chest feel warm. He distinctly remembers a memory of his childhood, a memory about how happy his mother had been when he returned home with an A+ on his paper. He remembers how her honey brown eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight, how the brown curls framed her pale face, how her red painted lips stretched into a proud smile that complement her bright eyes.
And now that he looked closely, this teen looked achingly similar to his own mother, not identical but there are shadows of her in him. Perhaps it is fate or karma if life is that vindictive with him but the boy had looked so much like the only woman he had ever loved, before Natasha that is.
“Tyatya has a nice ring to it.”
Bruce said, successfully cutting through the teen’s off tangent ramble again and silencing him. He could not help but smile at the wide-eyed look that appeared on the boy’s face and chuckled softly when he sputtered in both shock and excitement.
He could practically see the excitement rolling off him in waves and sagged into himself in relief now that he had not scared the boy away with his awkward hesitancy.
“And it would match up to Mamachka’s too! Do you speak Russian? Well you better learn it if you don’t because we often use it here, same with Polish since Uncle Phil and I are Polish. But don’t worry! I will help you!”
Wry amusement unfurled in his chest when he heard that because of course this would be a multilingual household, not that surprising when both Clint and Natasha are proficient in at least twenty different languages.
“A little bit. I used to have a lot of Russian colleagues, so I had picked up on some of it. Though I admit that I am a bit rusty.”
It is not like his self-exile gave him time to harness his Russian, especially not when he had avoided the country like the plague itself when he had heard rumors about General Ross establishing a base there.
“Neat and I hope you like wolves because we have loads of them here. Peter is the big bad here but he’s actually a big softy under all of those growly teeth and sass. Same with Derek, who’s a total cuddly wolf when he is not being a sour wolf. Don’t let his judgy bushy eyebrows get to you because he’s an actual bunny in wolfy suit, heck he even has bunny teeth! Laura is badass, even if she is not as badass as Mamachka, you don’t want to cross her because she could totally rip your throat out with her teeth and feed you with your own intestine if she wants to. Easiest way to get in her good side are chocolate. Loads of chocolate and she would be the nicest of the bunch. Malia is Peter’s daughter, she’s a coyote though because Peter thought it would be fun to play around with the Dessert Wolf. You should have seen the canine style custody battle going on between them, totally epic.”
A feeling of tranquility curled in the pit of his stomach, like a cat purring in contentment, as the boy continue on talking about his ‘pack’, loving the way the boy just let the words flow out from his mouth, fondness and endearment lacing his voice. It is comforting to him for some reason, to have the jovial voice washing over him as he sipped the lukewarm hot chocolate on the back porch of the Barton farm.
It is lackluster, this moment between them, but Bruce feels like this would be one of his most treasured moment. Two of the pack had opted to join them in the middle of Stiles’ conspiracy theory about Captain America’s serum containing the werewolf gene in it and the apex predators had plopped down on Stiles’ sides, effectively swamping the boy in between the mass of black fur.
“This is Sourwolf Derek” Stiles said, scratching the canine to his left under its chin and only laughed when the wolf nibbled on his fingers in admonishment, causing Bruce to nearly have a heart attack at the sight of those sharp teeth being so close to the delicate flesh of the very much human boy.
“Bruce Banner, I am Natasha’s-” The wolf made a sound akin to a snort before he could finish and Bruce had the distinct feeling that the wolf is rolling its eyes at him. Stiles’ own amused chuckle had more than confirmed it for him.
“Now, now wolfie, play nice. Bruce here is going to be my Tyatya, so you are going to see lots more of him around after this.” Stiles reprimanded the wolf despite the grin stretching his lips, hands buried in the thick fur of the wolf’s scruff, fingers flicking the perked ears playfully. The wolf huffed and grumbled something indiscernible to him but Stiles seems to be able to under it perfectly well.
“I am hearing denial there, bunny. You liked him already.”
As the two dissolved into a one-sided bickering, Bruce is left to stare at them until the flash of blue eyes met him. At first, he though it is Laura but the greyish white coat and slightly different built had him realizing the difference between it and Derek. So this must be Malia, the coyote of the bunch.
The coyote stared at him with unblinking eyes and Bruce felt like it is looking straight into his very soul, searching for something that only it knows. He does not know how much time had passed but the drink in his hands had grown cold by the time the coyote let out a chuff of air and laid its head on his laps.
Bruce does not know what it is trying to tell him but he will just take this as a sign of acceptance by the coyote. He ran a hesitant hand through its surprisingly soft fur and began to feel more confident when its chest rumbled in what he assumed as approval after he scratched it behind the ears.
“Wow, that’s a first.” Stiles’ awed voice had him looking at the boy and he could see the amazement etched to his face. Bruce quirked one of his brows up in question and Stiles just laughed in response.
“Malia never liked stranger and this is the first time she had warmed up to someone so fast. I bet you would have Laura and Peter wrapped around your fingers soon enough if you can have Malia accept you so easily.”
Stiles explained after he managed to get his laughter under control, though his eyes still glimmered with amusement under the artificial glow of the back-porch’s light.
And his chest warmed up at the sight of it.