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The first thing Bruce feels is a pair of hands. Strong, massive hands that rub soothingly down his shoulders, rough with calluses but still somehow gentler than anything he can remember feeling. It's comforting, almost enough to lull him back into forgiving darkness. Almost.
He cracks an eye open to Thor staring back at him, eyebrows knit in concern. His face is close to Bruce's—incredibly close. Bruce registers that his entire body is trembling.
"Wha—" he starts, but cuts off when Thor's fingertips stray a little lower, brushing against his waist. He shivers, realizing he's completely naked except for a blanket. "Where are we?" Thor inclines his head to Bruce's left. As Bruce turns to look out the window Thor gestures to, he's suddenly and dreadfully aware of the hum of the ship beneath him. When he sees the stars hurtling past them, he pitches forward slightly.
"Banner? Banner, stay with me." Thor sounds rather alarmed.
"I'm gonna be sick," Bruce groans. Thor catches him soundly as he leans forward even more.
"No, you're not. Come here." Thor wraps his arms around him in earnest now, and Bruce lets him. His head hits Thor's shoulder, and he can feel muscles move slightly under his forehead as Thor's hand runs gently up and down his spine. Bruce closes his eyes as slivers of memory return to him.
"Asgard," he murmurs, not quite a question. Thor's hand stills. Bruce can't see his face, but he has no trouble imagining how Thor's eyes (eye) almost certainly lose their twinkle, if only for a moment.
"Gone," Thor breathes, barely a whisper. He sounds older, more ragged. Bruce considers tilting his mouth forward just enough to press a kiss to Thor's shoulder. He doesn't. "But the people. The people are alright. It's going to be alright," Thor says, like he's still trying to convince himself. His hand comes to the back of Bruce's head, almost protectively. "It just doesn't quite feel like it right now." His voice cracks, almost inaudibly, but Bruce is close enough to him that he catches it.
It hits him, now. Thor is terrified. And who wouldn't be? He has a people to lead, to keep safe, to protect from danger. His father is gone. He's king now.
There's a crack of thunder, somehow, deep in the vacuum of uncharted space. Bruce has long given up trying to use his scientific mind to analyze Thor and the Asgardians. Thor draws back abruptly as soon as it sounds, rearranging himself so that he isn't touching Bruce at all.
"Forgive me, Banner, I had...lost control." Bruce blinks at him, frowning slightly. Thor attempts a smile, but it's strained. "I'm sure you're tired. Let's get you to bed, eh?" As soon as he says it, the exhaustion hits Bruce like a rogue freight train. He can only nod. Thor scoops him into his arms easily, but he can't manage to feel embarrassed by it. Instead, he lets his head loll against Thor's chest as he carries him off to places unknown.
**
When Bruce wakes, he's lying in an exceptionally comfortable bed. He's alone in the bedroom, a surprisingly well-furnished place. He would feel like he were staying in a high-end hotel if it weren't for the large set of windows across from the bed, giving a view of the stars.
Bruce sets about exploring the room, cautiously. The dressers are filled with clothes, some foreign and some Bruce might pick out for himself. The bedside drawer contains an large bottle of, from what Bruce can tell, some sort of Sakaarian lube.
The Grandmaster sure got around.
The rest of the ship is similar, roomier than one would expect from the outside, with Asgardians milling around in most areas. They seem calm, talking in small groups or taking in various forms of entertainment they must have found on the ship somewhere. It makes Bruce wonder uncomfortably just how long he's been out.
He finds an unoccupied couch facing the front window. Looking out makes his stomach lurch slightly, but the scientist in him pushes it down, taking in the planets and stars they pass with hungry curiosity.
"The Grandmaster's ships are rather nice, aren't they?" Bruce can't help the way he jumps at the unexpected voice and turns to see Loki, sprawled on the couch next to him as if he's been there for hours. Bruce has always found Loki unsettling, and somehow it's even stranger to see him decked out in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. "Granted," Loki continues, nodding solemnly, "lots of sex stuff, but I guess we have to take what we can get." Bruce snorts awkwardly, turning his attention back to the window.
Loki leans toward him slightly. "You're probably wondering how long you were out," he says, questioning, but like he knows the answer already. Bruce shivers. Incredibly unsettling. "A few days."
A few days? Back in Sakaar, with that sinking feeling in his stomach and noise assaulting his senses, he was almost certain he'd never make it out if he changed again. If not forever, he'd be stuck for a long time. Years, maybe. Not days.
"How did I--"
"How did you get out?" Loki smirks. Oh, Bruce does not like this conversation. "Thor."
"Thor?"
"Yes, Thor." Loki lowers his voice slightly. "He would just sit with you. Talk for hours. I think the Hulk knows most of Asgard's secrets now." Bruce blinks at him.
That's—a lot to take in, and Loki seems to know it as he returns to his side of the couch smugly. Bruce's stomach twists, not so much in pain as in...something else, apparently related to Thor, that he would very much not like to address right now. A thought suddenly occurs to him.
"Loki, how long until we get to Earth?" When Bruce looks back to the man, he's managed to fling his legs over the couch's armrest. Loki purses his lips.
"Not sure. The ship's fast, but it was never made for world-hopping without a wormhole. It'll be weeks, at least," Loki says. Bruce isn't sure what he was expecting. "Thor put me in charge of navigation. You know, in the Grandmaster's favor, so I know how to drive all the ships..." Bruce hadn't asked, but Loki looks proud of himself.
"Thanks," says Bruce softly. He's not sure he wants to talk anymore, and he's glad Loki curls away from him now, stretching like a cat—and then he suddenly is a cat, all jet black fur and unblinking green eyes. Bruce presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans. Sometimes he feels like he's caught in a strangely realistic and drawn out dream.
"Ah, Banner!" comes Thor's booming voice from behind him. "You're awake." He claps Bruce's shoulder in greeting, and Bruce sinks into the couch slightly. Now well-rested, Bruce can see the extent of the battle's damage to Thor—his face is covered in small cuts, just barely healed, and there are dark circles under his eyes. Bruce didn't even know gods could get dark circles. Worst of all, though, is the eyepatch. it seems to dull Thor's good eye into something unrecognizable. He still smiles, though, and even if it seems slightly fixed at the edges, it's a smile all the same.
Thor notices the cat next to Bruce. "And hello to you, too, brother!" He reaches out to scratch the cat's head, but it hisses at him before he can get too close.
Thor flashes Bruce a grin as he walks away, and the the twist in his stomach returns for a moment. Oh, shit.
**
It takes Bruce a few days to adjust to the constant whir of engines beneath his feet (well, days is relative—there's no way they can tell the time, but everyone seems to operate on a similar schedule of sleep, wake, and sleep again. There's not much else to do). Once he does, he finds the ship is surprisingly relaxing. It's nice to have a routine for once, even if the routine is on an alien spaceship with aliens returning from an alien planet (!).
Thor always seems to be around. He plays with the Asgardian children, comforts the adults, embraces the mourning. He's already a noble king.
And yet, even with all his royal duties, Thor somehow still finds time for Bruce. Sometimes they talk, Thor telling stories of Asgard and his youth. Sometimes they don't, and they sit together with their shoulders just barely brushing, staring out at the stars.
There hasn't been a repeat of that first night, though, not even close. Thor holds himself high, sometimes too stiffly, and refuses to show weakness. Bruce knows the feeling. But he wishes Thor trusted him enough to let loose, or let go, or whatever he needs to do.
Bruce knows Thor has nightmares just as he does, but it's not until about a week into their journey that he wanders into the main room and sees Thor curled in on himself on his throne, twitching slightly and shifting restlessly. Everyone else is asleep.
Bruce shuffles up to him, but Thor doesn't respond, only groans softly in his sleep. Bruce gingerly sits on the floor next to him, testing the waters as he leans against Thor's leg. It's comforting, really, being so close to someone else, and Thor seems to still a bit at Bruce's touch. Bruce decides a little time there can't hurt.
"Banner?" comes Thor's voice from above him, gravelly with sleep. "What are you doing?"
Bruce blinks up at him. "Sorry. I just had a nightmare. When I came in here, I think you were having one too. Didn't want to wake you, but I didn't want to leave you either." The light is too low for Bruce to see Thor's expression. The shadows on his face make him look older.
"You can't be comfortable down there. Come here." Bruce suddenly finds himself on his feet, Thor's hand wrapped gently around his wrist. He tugs Bruce along behind him to a part of the ship Bruce hasn't had the chance to explore yet. It's dead silent here—no restless Asgardians or pesky siblings.
As Thor leads Bruce into his bedroom, Bruce's face flushes an embarrassing pink as he thinks about how that sounds. Thor doesn't seem to notice as he sighs heavily and sits down on the surprisingly simple bed, gesturing for Bruce to do the same. He does.
"You're right, Banner," Thor says, leaning back against the headboard. Bruce tentatively sets himself in the space next to him. "The nightmares are bad. Horrible. Asgard burning and people dying." Thor clenches his hands into fists and Bruce grabs one on an impulse. Thor doesn't pull away. "That's not even a dream. Asgard burned and—and people died. And what kind of king am if I couldn't stop it?"
"A goddamn good one, and you know it," Bruce replies, squeezing Thor's hand gently. "It's shitty, but Asgard is gone. You know that had to happen so the people would be okay. And they are. You're gonna find somewhere and you're gonna start over."
Bruce looks over at Thor. His good eye is closed, but he nods. "Thank you, Banner."
"Bruce," Bruce says, nudging Thor slightly with his arm.
"Thank you, Bruce." Thor smiles wearily, and it suddenly occurs to Bruce that Thor has seen more heartbreak, more strife, more war, more fighting in just a tiny fraction of his life than anyone should ever see. It's remarkable, really, how Thor remains so cheerful, even when he's lived this life. Bruce wants nothing more than to hold him close and give him some of the comfort he knows Thor is lacking.
He tells himself Thor is half asleep when he wraps an arm around Bruce and pulls him in close. It doesn't matter to him, because Thor's arm is warm and strong, comforting. As Bruce rests his head on Thor's chest, he can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing as he drifts off. Bruce is not so quick to follow him in sleep.
Bruce instead studies Thor's face, not with a scientist's eye, but with a human's. He looks peaceful now, face relaxed and eye closed. Under the soft light of the bedroom, Bruce thinks he's incredibly beautiful.
There's that pull in Bruce's stomach again. He wishes he could deny it, but instead he sets his head back on Thor's chest, throwing an arm over Thor's middle. Thor doesn't stir, and Bruce sinks into sleep more easily than he had alone.
When Bruce wakes, Thor isn't there. He scans the room, which is slightly smaller than his own. It's decorated as the rest of the ship—that is, comfortable if a little overly ornate. Bruce realizes Thor has stuck an enthusiastic note to the dresser:
Hello, Bruce!!
I hope you slept well!!!
Love from,
Thor :)
Bruce finds his mouth curling up in a smile before he can help it. Thor is sweet, really, in a sort of confused kind of way. Bruce just wishes his pounding heart would ignore that.
**
It's not until a few days after their night together (Bruce likes to call it that in is mind, knowing exactly what kind of connotations it has) that Bruce gets another chance to spend time alone with Thor.
Bruce is fast asleep, nightmares for once not plaguing his dreams, when he's suddenly and out of nowhere wide awake and alert. He scans the room nervously, as he tends to do whenever he wakes, nearly missing the shadowy figure standing in his doorway. He's seconds away from panicking when the figure speaks.
"Calm down. It's me," says the figure, in Loki's voice. This does little to calm Bruce down. He sits up, clutching the blanket to his chest instinctively, and hears Loki sigh. "My brother is in his room. He just woke up asking for you." With that, Loki's gone again, leaving Bruce with a strange fluttery feeling sitting deep in his chest.
It takes Bruce an embarrassingly long time to find Thor's room again, but he manages. When he walks in, Thor seems...bedraggled. That's the only word Bruce can think to describe him. He looks too small with his blanket wrapped around him, and his good eye looks desperate. And are those tears glistening on his cheek? Bruce rushes to him before he even lets himself think.
"Nightmare?" he asks as he climbs into the bed next to Thor, running a soothing hand over his arm. Thor's (impressive) muscles tremble underneath his fingers. Thor just nods and leans back on the headboard, letting out a shaky breath.
"You...helped me last time. Will you stay?" Bruce wishes he could tell him he wants nothing more than to stay with him, that every time he sees Thor he wants to be in his arms.
"Of course," Bruce finally settles with after a pause that's just a bit too long. It seems like that's the only confirmation Thor needs, because he's immediately curling towards Bruce, resting his head on his chest. It's not that Thor seems weak like this, clutching at Bruce's shirt almost desperately. More...vulnerable. He listens as Thor's breathing gradually evens out, and thinks about how small Thor looks to him right now.
Bruce considers for a moment, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to Thor's damp hairline. Thor sighs lightly and readjusts himself, and Bruce wonders what it would be like to press that kiss to Thor's slightly parted lips.
**
Bruce starts to spend more nights in Thor's bed than his own, sometimes even when both their dreams are pleasant. He tells himself it's a friendly gesture for Thor, that it means nothing, absolutely nothing, that he's only doing what any good friend and teammate would do.
The back of his mind insists that's a lie every time Bruce lets himself stroke a gentle hand down the side of Thor's sleeping face, every time he wakes up and doesn't know where he ends and Thor begins.
Loki doesn't seem impressed, either, sending Bruce knowing glances whenever he sees him sharing Thor's personal space.
Thor seems oblivious to any of Bruce's feelings, which is both a blessing and a curse. He wonders if it's normal for Asgardian friends to spend the night in each other's arms. He even considers asking Loki, but he knows he'll just get an eye roll and a scoff in response.
It feels like everything has gone too far when, one night, Thor leans up and presses a lingering kiss to Bruce's neck before he slips into unconsciousness. Bruce lies awake for at least an hour, trying to will himself to stop thinking.
"You have got to be kidding me," is Loki's reply when Bruce slips out from under Thor's arm the next morning (Thor is still snoring gently, his stupidly beautiful face calm) and finds him in a panic (Loki is Bruce's last resort, but there aren't many other options). "He doesn't shut up about you, you know. And you've helped him so much more than you can imagine." Loki's expression is strangely soft. "I think it does him good to be around you so much. He needs you. The Asgardians remind him of what he's lost. And he doesn't have to be a king to you. Just a friend." Or more, Bruce's mind supplies unhelpfully. Loki smiles a thin smile that lets Bruce know the conversation is over. It hasn't done much to soothe Bruce's nerves.
He tries to be more careful around Thor. He can't let his feelings get the better of him, can't let himself take advantage of Thor's willingness to be close to him.
He instead spends his time talking to a few Asgardians he's become friendly with in the past few weeks. He doesn't know much about about Asgardian health, but he gives medical attention to the ones who need it as best he can. There's no way he can ease their sorrow, though. That he's not equipped to do.
Many have children. It breaks Bruce's heart to see them ask questions about when they're going home. He wonders how long it'll be before they fully understand what happened to Asgard.
One woman, Ingrid, with kind brown eyes with faint laugh lines around them, seems to take a liking to Bruce. Her twin daughters are fascinated with him, and he realizes it's because they've never seen a human before. Ingrid looks to be the same age as Bruce, and sometimes he has to remind himself that she's probably lived dozens of his lifetimes.
"Bruce Banner!" She greets as he sits down beside her in the common area. It's the middle of the "day," and people mill about around them. Her eyes take on a mischievous glint that reminds Bruce a little bit of Tony Stark. God, that's unsettling. "Some of us have been noticing that you've...taken a liking to our king." Bruce immediately flushes pink.
"It's not—it's not like that. We're just friends." It sounds feeble even to Bruce's ears. He grimaces slightly, and Ingrid doesn't look convinced.
Ingrid narrows her eyes as she stares at Bruce, a smile barely on her lips. "It's alright. It's nice to see it. So many people have lost their loved ones, and we're happy that he has someone." She sighs, and there's an element of melancholy to it. "He needs you."
What is it about people telling Bruce that Thor needs him?
Bruce hums, a little nervously. "Out of curiosity, and just—just curiosity, do Asgardians usually, uh, spend the night with their friends?" Ingrid's eyes go wide.
"Oh my god, do you mean—" Bruce realizes his mistake immediately.
"No! No, no, nothing like...what you're thinking. Just sharing a bed." Ingrid inclines her head to the side, smiling again.
"Bruce Banner, I think you know the answer to that." He genuinely doesn't, but he manages to infer from her tone.
"So, no?"
She giggles.
When he goes off to bed that night, he finds himself automatically heading toward Thor's chambers.
**
A few days later, Loki calls a meeting for everyone on the ship. All the passengers cram into the common space as Loki delivers his message.
"We will be arriving to Earth tomorrow. Thank you!" He then immediately leaves the room.
Something in Bruce's heart sinks. Earth. It's incredibly bittersweet, even though it shouldn't be, and it's all because of Thor. He should be so happy to get off this ship, to be home. But Earth means seeing Thor less, barely at all.
If you would have told Bruce two years ago he'd have a thing for Thor, he absolutely wouldn't have believed it. He'd actually used to find Thor a little annoying. Maybe Bruce's time on Sakaar has mellowed him.
Bruce looks over at Thor, who's surrounded by a swarm of excited Asgardians. Even as he shakes their hands and hugs them, he catches Bruce's eye with a wide grin and waves. Bruce raises his hand to wave back, but he can't quite make his smile seem quite so cheerful.
Bruce doesn't hesitate in heading to Thor's bedroom later. It's funny, how he'd been so reluctant to seek out Thor at first, but now it's almost second nature. Thor sits on the bed, staring at the wall. Well, where the wall should be, but now there's a massive window looking out at the stars. It must have been covered every time Bruce was in there.
(Bruce realizes later that Thor must have been doing it out of consideration for Bruce, remembering how seeing outside the ship had upset him that first night.)
As Bruce sits down next to him, Thor doesn't look up, seemingly lost in thought. Bruce doesn't push him to speak, just gently bumps his knee against Thor's and gives him a soft smile.
Thor seems to consider his words before he speaks. "It's so huge out there," he murmurs, eyes still trained on the window. "It makes me feel...so lucky that I managed to find you." Bruce feels his heart rate pick up considerably. Thor looks at him now, and he seems to have gotten closer. His hand is less than an inch away from Bruce's, and Bruce hopes Thor hasn't noticed him staring down at it.
"I...yeah," Bruce says eloquently.
Thor continues as if he hadn't heard. "Everything we've ever done in our lives has led us up to this moment, now. There's so much out there. What if I'd ended up two inches to the left when I fell out of the Bifrost? Then you'd still be on Sakaar, and...and Asgard would be gone. The people." Thor seems to shudder at the thought. Bruce takes the plunge and moves his hand slightly, wrapping his fingers around Thor's.
"But...that didn't happen. You're here now, and Asgard is alive. You don't have to worry about it because it didn't happen. Everything worked out." Bruce looks to Thor, who somehow seems closer still. He's surprised Thor hasn't noticed how hard his heart is pounding. Thor lets out a tiny breath, and Bruce feels it on his face.
"Forgive me if I am mistaken in asking, but...Bruce Banner, may I kiss you?" Bruce's heart feels like it goes from racing furiously to stopping completely.
Bruce realizes he's forgotten to breathe and is just staring at Thor when Thor's shoulders start to droop. "Please," Bruce gasps out, hands reaching up blindly. Thor catches them gently as his eyes light up again.
Saying that kissing Thor is perfect would be an understatement. He's a god, of course it's amazing, but holy shit. Thor's hands roam down Bruce's back, through his hair, almost leisurely, while Bruce clutches at the front Thor's shirt for dear life. When Thor catches Bruce's lower lip gently between his teeth, Bruce makes an embarrassing sound in the back of his throat that makes Thor wrap his arms around Bruce's waist and pull him, somehow, closer.
Bruce pulls back, panting. His endurance is nothing like Thor's. Thor's smiling, but his eyes go wide when he catches a glimpse of Bruce.
"What? What's wrong?" Thor's hasn't stopped grinning, though, which is a comfort to Bruce.
"I think...oh, I'm sorry, I think I got a little carried away," says Thor sheepishly, gesturing to Bruce's hair. Bruce runs a hand through it and realizes it's standing on end, coursing with static electricity.
Bruce's mood suddenly plummets when he remembers their destination. Oh, god, this happens, and now what if he never sees Thor again, what if they get to Earth and he's alone again—
Thor notices Bruce's distress. "Darling, what is it?" Bruce flushes. He sure isn't wasting time with the pet names.
"Earth is a day away. I don't—I don't want to lose you."
Thor squeezes his hand. "Stay with us, then."
Bruce lets out a happy sigh and surges forward to kiss him again.