Archive of Our Own

In eight months of knowing Bruce Banner, Thor could say that he had somewhat developed a way to understand exactly what he meant every time he spoke. Because you see, the thing with Bruce is that he almost never said what he wanted. Interestingly enough, he would often say precisely what you’d want him to say, but you could tell it wasn’t a natural reaction and it was thoroughly thought through, and he would usually minimize what he really wanted or needed or just completely gloss over it.

It was frustrating, and not in a small amount, but Thor had learned to understand it. It was kind of a defence mechanism, and he was fairly sure Bruce wasn't even consciously aware of it most of the time.

So when on Friday morning, coincidentally his free morning that week, his phone dinged with a notification from the group chat “Teachers: Assemble” he had only recently gotten added to, he already knew he was in for a ride.

The text from Bruce was simple. “I’m sick,” it said, under the last message sent to the chat- a disturbing amount of heart emojis sent in by Clint, followed by a not so convincing ‘sorry, that was Nathaniel’- and not even a minute passed before another one followed it: “I won’t make it to work this morning, I already called Fury”.

He stared at the phone for a couple of seconds, a cup of coffee still halfway to his lips. He couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming- he had phoned Bruce just the previous night, as they always did, and had immediately noticed how rough the man’s voice had sounded. He could tell that he was either getting a cold or a fever, but Bruce had only brushed off his concerns and acted like nothing was out of the usual- but he still felt kind of betrayed that Bruce hadn't told him sooner.

I mean, they were boyfriends. If Thor wasn't going to be the one to trust when he was sick and in need of someone to take care of him then who?

He didn't have time to cringe at how pathetic that thought was- Bruce was a grown ass adult, he could make choices for himself, regardless of how much Thor disliked them- because his phone suddenly dinged again. Tony had just added him to a second group chat, and he could immediately see that there was still every one of Bruce’s friends in it, except for Bruce himself.

The group chat must have been made hastily because it was titled ‘fuckin hell’.

Okay, we all know what that’s code for, right?

Knowing his boyfriend, Thor already had an idea, and it wasn't promising at all.

He’s dying.

He wouldn’t have put it down like Sam just had but yeah, that was more or less the point. If Bruce was desperate enough to admit that he was sick and to take a day off work he must be feeling absolutely miserable. It probably meant he couldn’t even make it to his front door to attempt it, and that knowledge was what made Thor stand up, carelessly throwing his cup into the kitchen sink- and probably breaking it by consequence.

I’m heading over right now, he texted, already quickly putting his shoes on, his heart beating faster with worry for his boyfriend. His mother had once compared his protectiveness to that of a lion, the way he would always want to make sure everyone he cared about was safe and sound and was always completely down to fight anyone who dared try to hurt them, but now, hastily throwing a jackets over his shoulders and closing his apartment’s door behind his back, he felt more like a mother hen.

A mother hen whose chick was an infuriatingly stubborn scientist who would rather actually die than ask people for help.

It was only when he stopped to wait for the train at the nearest subway station that he pulled out his phone again to check the new group chat. Various people had reacted to his comment- Natasha had texted a random assortment of hearts and cute faces, Wanda said that she was going to send positive vibes in Bruce’s way, whatever that meant, and Bucky had texted ‘need me a freak like that’, which had caused an indignant Steve to reply ‘we are married’- but it was the text from Tony that attracted his attention the most.

So are Steph and I.

Thor let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding. He hadn't let himself fully consider the fact that Bruce might need medical attention, the whole idea made him freak out for some reason, so Strange’s presence and, most importantly, knowledge reassured him.

The train came to a stop in front of him and after a second its door opened.

Alright. Time to take care of that asshole.

It didn't take him long to reach Bruce’s apartment. His legs were long enough and he was caffeinated to the point that allowed him to walk relatively quickly, so he practically power-walked his way across New York and up the four flights of stairs leading to his boyfriend’s front door. When he reached it he was embarrassingly out of breath.

Damn them and their hesitation in moving in together.

He could already hear movements from inside the apartment, so when he opened the door with his keys- something that had touched him deeply when they were given to him by Bruce, before he realized every one of his friends had a copy in case of emergency- he wasn't surprised to see both Tony and Stephen already fussing over a sick Bruce.

“Oh, here comes the boyfriend to the rescue,” Tony joked from his sitting position on the couch, where he was holding Bruce’s hand, but Thor paid him little to no attention, his eyes too busy anxiously roaming over his boyfriend’s shape.

Bruce was laying on his back, an arm thrown over his face as though the morning light was hurting his eyes, the other dangling off the couch with such a lack of reactiveness that it was honestly worrying. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a long sleeved shirt that made him look fragile, and in serious need of a good cuddle. It did some weird stuff to Thor’s heart.

His boyfriend lifted up his arm tiredly when he heard him approach the couch, and when his glasses-less eyes set on him after a couple of tries he positively beamed- an odd look if you consider his pale skin and red nose.

“Hey there, stranger,” he raped out, voice creaking in a way that must hurt, “You’re looking exceptionally blurry today.”

Thor couldn't find it within himself to smile. He knew Bruce was obviously not dying- he still hadn't heard Stephen’s verdict, but if the casual way with which he was rummaging through his bag was anything to go by it was nothing too serious- but his heart still clenched at seeing him so defenceless. His usually tanned skin looked worryingly white, and he seemed to attempt to lift himself up a couple of times before he gave up, head too heavy to do anything.

He honestly wanted to do nothing more than scoop him up in some blanket and protect him from the world.

“Oh, Bruce,” he mumbled, lifting a hand to touch his forehead- he was hot, too hot, and the man sighed contently at the cool contact, “What did you do.”

“Nothin’,” he mumbled back, sounding almost offended. He cracked an eye open to glance at Thor, evidently having difficulties focusing without his glasses, and it was so red and puffy it made him want to cry, for some reason.

“That’s the problem, Brucie-poo,” Tony softly scolded him, caressing the back of the hand he was holding in such a tender manner it made Thor suddenly weirdly grateful that the two of them were friends. He planned on staying at Bruce’s side for the rest of his life, if he let him, but it was nice to see that someone else already has his back, “You always get in trouble like this and never tell us anything. It’s really a terrible modus operandi.”

Bruce closed his eyes, and a couple of seconds passed in silence before a tear slipped out of one of them. Thor legitimately panicked, and from the looks of it so did Tony.

“I mean, it's not that terrible!” he hurried to explain, but he was interrupted when Stephen walked over to them, standing between Thor and Tony.

“It’s not your fault. The fever is pretty high, he’ll probably be crying for a while from time to time for no reason,” Thor still reached over to wipe away the stray tear, and Bruce loudly sniffed, arm coming back down his face to hide his reaction from the others, “I need you to sit up for a second, can you do that, Bruce?”

Thor didn't even let him try, already helping him up himself. Bruce mumbled something about his muscles hurting and not cooperating, and Thor just shushed him, kissing his temple, his heart flaring with protectiveness. His boyfriend kind of sagged against him, too weak to hold himself up properly, and he leaned his chin on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Stephen warned as he slipped on his stethoscope, “From the sounds of it it’s probably bronchitis, and it’s not a fun thing to catch.”

Like hell he was stepping away from Bruce when he needed him most.

He didn't actually say that aloud- both because it felt like something intimate to share with his boyfriend only, and also because he didn't want to offend Stephen- so he just hummed in response, not moving an inch. Neither Tony nor his husband said anything to move him.

Stephen lifted Bruce’s shirt up with a shaky hand until he could sneak the stethoscope underneath it, and when the cold metal disk touched his skin he hissed, back arching up and away from the sensation involuntarily, and it was a new experience for Thor because he had never wanted to fight an inanimate object before.

Bruce was asked to breathe a couple of times, then to cough, and the sound he made sounded so pained it almost made Thor want to fight Stephen for asking him that. It took him a while to stop couching, his body shaken involuntarily as he made noises one would expect to hear from an avid smoker on his death bed, but when he did he only slumped further into Thor’s side.

“God, I hate this,” he winced, forehead leaning against his boyfriend’s neck, and great, now Thor wants to fight his goddamn lungs.

“Alright, you can lie down now,” Stephen said as he stepped away from the couch and towards his bag. Thor gently helped his boyfriend down and he couldn't keep himself from running his hands through his hair in what he knew was a soothing motion for Bruce, while he pointedly ignored Tony’s intense gaze on him. He had been quiet for a while, preferring to just hold his friend’s hand as a display of support, but he also hadn't stopped looking at Thor almost inquisitively, as if he was studying him.

He couldn't tell if he was just evaluating exactly how good of a boyfriend Thor actually was or if he just got lost in thought and spaced out.

Stephen came back to them holding something in his hand, and Bruce kind of glanced towards his general direction, too tired to put any more effort into the act.

“Doctor, doctor, give me the news,” he joked, half-singing, and it sounded like he was about to continue but he cut himself off to look up at Thor, more focused. He had no idea what passed through his head at that instant but it seemed like it was a particularly important topic for Bruce if his expression was anything to go by.

“Is he delirious?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow while looking at Bruce like he had just grown a second head.

“No, he’s just tired enough to have his filters completely shut down,” Stephen explained, then he regarded Thor with a grim expression, “As I thought, it’s bronchitis. It’s nothing too bad and it should go away in a couple of days if he takes this.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Bruce frowned, as Stephen handed Thor the bottle of medicine he had been holding, and his boyfriend was about to take his side on that until the doctor spoke again.

“The only reason why you have bronchitis to begin with is because you ignored its symptoms and only worsened it, so forgive me if I don’t consider you capable of many responsibilities right now,” his tone was soft and soothing, as though trying to be as kind as possible to avoid any more crying accident, but he was visibly distressed by the fact. Bruce seemed to relent at that, just kind of nodding before sinking even further into the mattress in shame.

“Give him a spoonful of that three times a day,” Stephen continued, pointing at the medicine that Thor was holding as if his life depended on it, “Start now. It might make him drowsy so I suggest moving to the bedroom before he falls asleep on you.”

“Does it taste good?” Bruce rasped out, eyeing the bottle with suspicion. Tony cooed at him the same way one would with a cute animal.

Stephen smiled good-naturedly, “Why don’t you tell me?”

The other man cringed, preferring not to answer the cryptic statement, “It sucks ass doesn’t it?”

“We should try to lay him down on the bed,” Tony suddenly spoke up, most likely trying to interrupt Bruce’s new line of thoughts regarding the medicine’s flavour, “I could lift him up while you two-“

Thor didn't even give him time to finish the sentence, already handing him the medicine before bending down to lift his boyfriend up, one arm behind his back and one under his knees. Bruce barely reacted- he just hummed in appreciation and let his head loll against Thor’s collarbone- but it wasn't until he was fully standing up that he realized that although this is nothing too out of the ordinary for them, a grown man carrying another grown man so effortlessly might have looked a bit odd to other people. If Tony and Stephen’s stunned expressions were anything to go by, they certainly hadn't been expecting that.

“Or you could… do that, I guess,” Tony nodded, eyes so big they almost looked comical. The hand that had been comforting Bruce was still on his knee, now empty, and his gaze was set on Thor’s arm muscles. He suddenly turned his attention towards his husband, standing up as though trying to be on the same height as him (it didn’t really work), “How come you never carry me like that?”

Stephen frowned at him, snapping out of his trance, “How come you never carry me like that?”

“Alright,” Thor chuckled, already moving away towards Bruce’s bedroom, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

And with that being said, he focused all of his attention again on his sick boyfriend, the one that was now trying very hard not to droll on him. The same protective insist that had possessed him that morning suddenly came back in full force, and as he manoeuvred Bruce under the cover he realized he wanted nothing more than to follow him and try to make him feel better, as though his mere presence was going to fix his health via osmosis.

Bruce mumbled something unhappy as he was being laid down, and Thor shushed him with a kiss on his forehead.

“Shh, I’ll be back in a second,” he promised, smoothing out the covers around the other man, “Just have to let Tony and Stephen out then you can tell me anything you want about how that medicine is going to taste.”

“He said you tell me, Thor! That’s never a good sign!” Bruce hissed, which only resulted in a fit of cough that left him wheezing over the side of the bed with his boyfriend rubbing small concerned circles on his back. He must have felt Thor’s worried gaze on him because he fell back on his pillow with a tired sigh, smiling at him in what was probably meant to be reassurance but that really wasn't, “Go, I’m certainly not moving from here.”

Ignoring the intense urge to not leave Bruce’s side for any reason, Thor kissed him once again on the forehead- because he could and he wanted to, thank you very much- before quickly slipping out of the bedroom into the living room. Stephen was finishing putting away all his medical stuff in his bag while Tony was already looking at him with the intensity of an anthropologist. He had been doing that since Thor had set foot into the apartment, and it was starting to unnerve him.

“You have a four pm, right?” he asked when Stephen was done and stepping up beside him, bag in hand and ready to leave. Thor nodded, glancing back at the bedroom as though checking that Bruce was still in one piece.

“I do, but I can get someone else to cover me, it’s no problem, I’ll-“

“Thor, you already look half out of your mind and you haven’t even been here for ten minutes,” Stephen softly pointed out, and that got Thor to finally tear his gaze away from Bruce’s bedroom and set it on his two friends standing in front of him. He couldn't really deny that, not with his hands writhing at his sides and his eyes bouncing maniacally from them to the bedroom’s open door.

“I’m okay,” he promised. He wasn't the one with goddamn bronchitis here, what the hell? “I’d rather stay here all day than leave him alone.“

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

He frowned, feeling like the answer was ridiculously obvious, “Of course, I-" 

He didn't end the sentence but the coloured tips of his ears probably gave its ending away. They still hadn't told each other the big L word, and he surely wasn’t going to blurt it out in front of Bruce’s best friend and his husband.

Tony nodded almost smugly, studying gaze suddenly disappearing, “Thought so,” he said, and Thor felt his cheeks colour too when Stephen just nodded along knowingly. He handed him the medicine he had discarded previously without dropping the smug expression, “But there’s no need. Everyone already agreed on what time to come around to check on him. Clint and Wanda come in after you, and Rhodey and Sam after them.”

Thor nodded at that. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Bruce alone but he trusted Clint’s motherly instincts and Wanda’s… niceness, he guessed. He wasn't exactly sure what Wanda’s deal was yet but he trusted her more than he trusted a sick Bruce left alone to his own devices.

He sighed, already knowing that he would be worried about his boyfriend the second he left the apartment, which would probably make him insufferable to his colleagues, “Alright.”

Tony hummed, happy to hear him agree with the plan, “Good man. We’re going to leave you to Florence Nightingale the hell out of your boyfriend, call us if you need anything.”

The mention of the nurse seemed to set off Stephen because he immediately perked up and started animatedly talking about her story, happily gesticulating while Tony lead him to the exit as he nodded along in a way that seemed to say ‘that’s great, babe’ and ‘I love you for knowing so much about this random historical figure, babe’, almost like they had been married for decades and this was the umpteenth time Stephen had brought this argument up.

As Thor watched them close the door behind their back, he idly wondered if craving for that kind of closeness was weird or not.

Alright.

The second the front door closed he turned on his heels and marched right back into the bedroom with determination. He loved his friends, but now that he and Bruce were alone he felt more comfortable explicitly showing his concerns and affection for him.

His boyfriend was still laying in bed where he left him, limbs thrown out confusedly starfish-like and his breath ragged. He reached over to shake him awake but he proceeded him, lifting his head to squint up at him.

“Oh no,” he rasped out, an adorable little frown adorning his face, “It’s medicine time, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” he confessed, amusedly picking up the medicine to open it. Once he had located the tiny plastic spoon that came along with it- which for the record was adorably tiny oh my goodness- he looked back at Bruce to find him still frowning, “Keep the moping up and your face’ll get stuck like that.”

Bruce sighed dramatically, trying to sit up. After a couple of tries, and after refusing Thor’s help each time, he finally managed to sit straight against the headboard, “You sound like my mother.”

Thor clicked his tongue, measuring out a spoonful of medicine, “Now is not the time to figure out some weird complex.”

His boyfriend looked like he was about to reply to that when he basically shoved the spoon in front of him, giving him no choice but to gulp it down.

Not even half a second passed before he made a face.

“Oh, this fucking sucks.”

“Language,” Thor tutted, bottling up the medicine before setting it on the nightstand, “You can’t have both fast healing and a nice tasting medicine, don’t be greedy.”

Bruce made some more unhappy noises, probably still whining about the medicine, but Thor didn’t pay much attention to that, preferring to focus on his next task: making sure his boyfriend was as comfortable and warm as possible.

Standing up, he started pacing around the bed, fixing the covers up as he went.

“What are you doing?” came Bruce’s hoarse question, and he gently shushed him. Not like you would shush someone you didn’t want to talk, but like you would shush someone who sounded like they were two sentences away from dying.

“Breakdancing,” he deadpanned, “I’m taking care of you, dummy.”

He fluffed up a pillow, laid an extra blanket over the bed, and tucked Bruce in until he looked like a neat little burrito. It was then that he noticed the look on his boyfriend’s face: it wasn’t sad, exactly, but he was clearly unhappy. Had he not known him enough he would have thought the current situation was what was bothering him but he knew that look: it was self-deprecation time.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong,” he happily stated, pulling the covers up until he could tuck them under Bruce’s chin. All he got back was an answering frown.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered back, so low he probably wasn’t expecting Thor to hear him.

“I know, but I want to,” Thor replied, looking down at him with a small, worried smile. He reached over to gently pat Bruce’s head and the other man closed his eyes, swallowing thickly, “Because that’s what people do when they care about each other.”

Care, right. That was all he felt for Bruce that pushed him forward and that was currently beating out his chest so enthusiastically he was surprised the other man hadn’t heard it yet.

Nothing more.

Bruce was quiet for a couple of seconds, and it was with horror that Thor suddenly realized why: he had started crying again. That was not good at all.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, hurrying over to him, mother hen instincts kicking in, but that only seemed to make him cry even more. He reached out to wipe away a couple of stray tears and Bruce whimpered, a sound that literally broke his heart. He burrowed himself further into the covers, turning away from Thor and hiding his face from him, and Thor was having none of that.

“I don’t deserve any of you,” he was pretty sure he heard Bruce say, but he was too busy taking off his shoes and jacket to be one hundred per cent sure (but knowing the dramatic asshole, yeah, that’s what he said). He quickly pulled down the covers enough to slip under them behind his boyfriend, but not enough to allow the cool air from the room to enter.

“If you don’t stop that right now I’ll have to fight your dumb self-hating brain and we both know it wouldn’t be fun,” he tried to joke, but all he got back was a wet unhappy laugh from Bruce. Feeling his chest tighten, he reached over the small space between them and started massaging his boyfriend’s back, trying to coax him to turn around, “I don’t know what kind of narrative you made up but I can assure you I’m here of my own volition and don’t plan on going anywhere, regardless of how much you keep telling yourself otherwise."

“I’m an inconvenience to all of you,” Bruce mumbled, turning around for the sake of seeking out Thor’s warmth. His eyes were red and so puffy he probably could barely see, “You had all to drop everything just to come look after an idiot that can’t even take care of himself.”

“First of all," Thor started, tugging Bruce until he was leaning against his chest heavily, as though crying had dried him of all his remaining strength and he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, “I didn’t have to drop anything, and neither did Tony and Stephen. We all have a free Friday morning this semester and you know it. Secondly,” he nudged Bruce’s head with his chin, trying to make him look up, but he just tucked himself even closer against his neck, “I told you. This is what friends do. If someone is sick they look after them.”

“It’s just,” he huffed against his collarbone, his breath warm and ragged, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to care for me out of pity and eventually grow to resent me."

His voice was so tiny and fragile it almost made Thor cry for the second time that day. Bruce usually wasn’t this open about his feelings- he had once joked about hoping Thor wasn’t with him just because he felt pity for him and it had only made his boyfriend frown in confusion, unsure whether he had been kidding or not, but that was mostly it- and the only times he could get him to be vulnerable was by trapping him until he had no way of escaping the conversation- something that he did not like and that usually pissed him off really bad- so this was a new territory for him. He had a feeling it had something to do with his inhibitors being out, as Stephen had said.

“Hey, look at me,” he nudged Bruce again and after a couple of tries he finally managed to meet his watery eyes. He tried to convey how much he cared for and, yes, loved him with the way he gazed down at him and tightened his hold on him, “There is literally nowhere else in the world I would want to be right now.”

Because I love you. Did I mention that? I probably should ‘cause it’s getting kinda suffocating in here.

Bruce frowned adorably at him, a small disbelieving smile adorning his face that reassured Thor he had caught up on everything he wasn’t saying, “You would rather stay here with me drooling all over myself than, say, the Maldives?”

“Why would I want to go to the Maldives when everything I ever needed is right here?” that was overtly cheesy, and he knew that, but the way Bruce blushed adorably and tried to hide his face was totally worth it.

“You’re an idiot,” he laughed, gazing up at him through a half-lidded eye. It looked like his sudden crying session had quieted down and that he was starting to get drowsy, “Here I am trying to get you to realize how dumb this whole situation is and you’re acting like a cheesy love interest from a rom-com.”

Laughing openly at that he reached over to kiss Bruce’s forehead but in a surprising display of reflexes he tilted his head back, making his lips land on his throat, “‘m sick. You don’t want to catch some bronchitis too don’t you?”

“It’s called bronchitis for a reason, love,” he replied nonsensically, too busy peppering kisses all over Bruce’s neck, making sure not to tickle him too much since his lungs were already having a hard time as it was. Bruce still chuckled softly, not enough to trigger another coughing fit but enough to make Thor pull away, “You should try to rest. It’s not even ten yet.”

Bruce nodded, eyes already slipping closed, “You don’t need to stay here with me, you know?”

Thor made himself more comfortable, tucking his arm under his boyfriend’s head so that he could cuddle him more properly, “I know.”

The other man hummed as Thor started gently running his fingers through his messy hair, “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do just because you feel pity for me.”

“I won’t,” he said, and he stayed exactly where he was.

He lay down with Bruce for a good two hours, telling himself he was doing it just for the sake of a cuddle and to make sure he was all warm and comfortable, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was mostly just keeping an eye on him to calm his stupid anxieties down. After a while, though, his arm started to feel numb, and while he could ignore that for sake of Bruce’s rest, when the clock started nearing noon he decided to try and stand up to get some sort of lunch started.

Maneuvering himself out of the bed wasn’t easy, his boyfriend was clinging onto his arm like an octopus and it was so unfairly cute it almost made him forget about his plans and keep the unexpected cuddling session going, but once he finally managed to free himself he tucked Bruce right back under the covers before power-walking towards the kitchen. The quicker he got this thing done the better.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Bruce had pretty much anything in his shelves- that guy always restocked like he was getting ready for an apocalypse only he knew about, it was impressive- so he didn’t have any trouble finding all he needed to prepare a chicken soup for his ill better half. He moved around the kitchen as quietly as possible, shooting worried glances in the general direction of the bedroom every once in a while to make sure Bruce was still asleep, and it didn’t take him long to get the lunch going.

It was almost poetic, that moment. His boyfriend and probable future husband was sleeping under a good couple of layers of warm blankets while he was stirring what promised to be the best chicken soup in the history of New York- it had kind of a nice rustic vibe to it.

He was halfway through making himself a quick sandwich- not because he was actually hungry, but because he knew that Bruce would only feel even more guilty if he didn’t eat something- when his quiet was interrupted by a loud crash in the hallway. He turned around to find Bruce grabbing onto a shelf like his life depended on it, a couple of books thrown over the carpet after he presumably knocked them down.

“You really want to give me a heart attack today, don’t you?” he half-heartedly sighed, rushing over his boyfriend’s side to get him to lean his weight against him. He was a lot warmer than he remembered him being before, and he knew enough about biology to know that he shouldn't be up and about with a temperature like that.

“Sorry,” Bruce rasped, looking like he was moments away from passing out, which only made Thor hold him even more closely, “I needed to go to the bathroom.”

“Come on then, I better help you, you look like you’re about to faint,” he started walking towards the bathroom but his boyfriend didn’t remotely move, preferring to stay there looking down at the floor in shame.

“I-“ he sighed, his head dropping forward by its own accord after a brief coughing fit, “I lied, I just missed you.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second against the dumb flips his heart started making in his chest. That man was going to be the death of him.

“Now you’re the one sounding right out of a rom-com,” he mumbled, leaning his chin on Bruce’s head in a quick quasi-hug. He didn’t want to make it last longer than Bruce could resist standing up so he started gently nudging him towards the bedroom.

“I guess we’re really made for each other, huh?"

He snorted, pushing Bruce forward until they were back at his bed again, “Keep this up and it’s going to be a pretty uneventful rom-com.”

“What a greedy audience,” he expected Bruce to sit on the bed to regain some strength before moving under the covers but instead he decided to just face-plant into it. He was so tired his reflexes didn’t even react to that.

Thor reached out a hand to pat his back in sympathy, and to make sure he was still breathing, “Aw, my poor baby.”

Bruce groaned something against the covers, then turned his head to the side so he could be actually heard, “Don’t call me baby.”

“Aw, my poor seven PhDs holder, renowned scientist, and highly successful university professor who refuses to be emotionally vulnerable enough to let his boyfriend call him pet names,” he cooed jokingly, loving the way Bruce frowned up at him in offence, “Come on, headboard’s not even five feet away, that’s just a little more than your height.”

“You know, you really have a peculiar way of taking care of people,” Bruce deadpanned, but from his tone it was obvious he was doing a monumental effort to try and stay coherent, and that he probably would have preferred to just pass out on the first flat surface he found and call it a day.

Trying not to make him feel too manhandled, he helped him up until he was sitting against the pillows again. He fluffed them up to make sure he was as comfortable as possible and was about to get back to the kitchen to find the soup he had gotten ready for him but a small hand grasping his shirt sleeve stopped him. Bruce looked up at him with a silent question in his eyes, arms slightly open, and he looked so heartbreakingly cute there was no way in hell he could ever deny him a hug.

It was awkward since one of them was standing and the other sitting, so he decided to lower himself on the bed to better accommodate Bruce before he took him in his arms, nudging his head under his chin. They both let out a simultaneous breath like they were jigsaw pieces that had finally found their right spot.

Bruce mumbled something against his chest that sounded a suspicious lot like ‘I owe you’, and he huffed, “Stop it, you don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I didn’t say that,” his boyfriend pulled away, looking up at him with an unreadable but familiar look, one that he had seen countless of times before but that he had never managed to place, “I said I love you.”

He was sure his heart stopped beating for a second, then it restarted itself, faster than before.

Oh.

“Oh,” he said, eloquently.

Oh.

“Oh?” Bruce parroted, an amused glint in his tired eyes. It was weird, seeing him so relaxed when not even four hours before he had been crying about not feeling like he deserves Thor’s care. When he literally just told him that he loved him.

It was safe to say that Thor was freaking the hell out.

He hadn't really planned out a way to tell Bruce how he felt, regardless of how many times he had thought about it- there were moments in which he repeated it like a mantra, an endless stream of I love you I love you I love you I love you it was honestly surprising Bruce hadn’t caught up on it- but he sure hadn’t thought that Bruce was going to be the one to take up the courage and make the first move. It was out of character.

Maybe too out of character.

Thor looked up towards the kitchen, where the chicken soup was still on the fire.

Maybe this was all just an illness delirium and Bruce didn’t actually mean any of it.

“I-“ he gulped, nervously fidgeting with his hands, “The- the soup is ready, I’ll just go- this conversation isn’t over, I just-“

Bruce nodded, his shoulders slumping a bit in what Thor prayed wasn't disappointed, god he hoped his hesitation hadn’t caused him to rethink his confession, “Please pick Hall up on your way to the kitchen, he doesn’t deserve to be on the floor.”

Thor frowned, not really understanding what that was supposed to mean- maybe he really is delirious oh god- and made sense of the sentence only when he almost slipped over the few books Bruce had accidentally knocked down early.

He quickly poured out the soup into a bowl, acting mostly on autopilot as his mind refused to focus on anything other than the conversation he and his boyfriend had just had, and before he knew it he was back in the bedroom, a tray with Bruce’s lunch on it in one hand and his sandwich in the other. A sandwich he wasn't really sure when he was going to eat considering that his stomach was still doing backflips in his belly.

He set the tray on Bruce’s legs and when he looked down at him he wasn't surprised to find him already staring at him in expectation. He would, too, if he had just confessed his love for someone he cared so deeply for and they had legged it like a coward- god he was such an asshole. He needed to fix this.

Bruce looked at him for a very long time over the steam of his soup. He was glad that he didn’t look like he was regretting his confession, he only had enough mental stability to handle one of them having a breakdown at a time, he just looked like he was bracing himself for a heartbreak- which wasn’t in any capacity better but he didn’t have time to unpack that yet, “You’re freaking out.”

“I’m not!” he exclaimed, wincing at his own loud tone. He repeated again, but more softly, “I’m not.”

His boyfriend raised an unimpressed eyebrow in his direction, picking up the spoon and looking down at the soup like it held all the secrets of the universe, “Now who’s the one with the emotional vulnerability issues here?”

Thor made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, leaning against Bruce’s drawer, trying to find the words to express exactly how he was feeling. How do you say ‘I love you too with all of my heart and soul but I think this emotional exposure I’m putting myself through here will be useless because I’m pretty sure you only said you love me 'cause you’re delirious’ in a nice way?

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, you know,” his boyfriend mumbled as he reached for his glasses set on his nightstand, “I get it, I-“

“Who’s the president?”

Bruce snapped his eyes back up towards him, evidently confused, “What?”

Thor took a deep breath. He couldn’t stand him looking so defeated, like a puppy abandoned under the rain- he needed to make it better, but he also needed to know Bruce was 100% coherent for this: he cared too much to have it blown out by a stupid illness.

“Who’s the president?” he asked again, which only made Bruce grimace.

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Alright, name four mammals that begin with a P.”

Bruce frowned again, then his expression immediately cleared. Then he frowned again, but this time in anger, “Are you seriously checking to see if I’m delirious?”

“What, can you blame me?”

“Oh. My God,” he drawled, obviously disbelieving, which made Thor wince but before he could speak up to explain his pain of view he continued, “Is the idea of loving me so repulsive that me being in love with you makes you hope I’m just being delirious?”

“Hey- what?” Thor frowned, feeling the conversation slip away from his grasp. What was Bruce even saying? “That’s, no- that’s not what I’m saying, what the hell?"

“Then what is it that you’re saying, exactly?” Bruce asked, carefully manoeuvring the tray with his soup out of his lap, “Because all I’m seeing here is me being open for once and you thinking I must be nuts.”

Before Thor could stop him he was on his feet, so quick that for a moment he was terrified he was going to pass out on the spot. He didn’t, though, he just stood there as tall as his illness allowed him, squaring up to him with puffy eyes and shivering skin, chest puffed out almost comically. He looked ridiculous and he asked himself for maybe the tenth time in the last three minutes why they were even arguing. It was obvious he needed nothing but rest.

“For the love of god,” Thor groaned, raking his hands through his hair. Bruce was angry, that much was sure, but he also sounded incredibly hurt. If he had any doubt about that, the way he shooed him and his concerned helping hands away when he suddenly swayed on his feet fully confirmed it. He wasn't used to being vulnerable like this and Thor's hesitation only made him panic, “Bruce, I’m just scared that you don’t mean it because you’re ill. You heard what Strange said! What if this is just the illness speaking and nothing more and you’ll end up regretting it tomorrow?"

“Oh my god. It’s just some bronchitis! He said it was going to take down my filters, not make me suddenly develop feelings for someone just because my lungs are a little clogged, you absolute doorknob,” Bruce swayed again, but flinched away from Thor’s hands when he reached for him, which hurt in a way he hadn’t been expecting, “I told you, if you don’t feel the same it’s okay, I get it, it would be presumptuous to expect you to love someone like me, I-“

“You fucking-“ Thor growled softly, hands shooting out to grab Bruce’s biceps and keep him still, too quick to make him pull away again, “Bruce, I love you too.”

The other man blinked up at him like an owl, his anger washing all away so quickly he almost expected him to fall to his knees.

“Wha-“ he suddenly turned away from Thor in time to cough, something that he did for a solid half a minute while Thor gently rubbed his back, euphoria wearing out in favour of the now-familiar concern, “You- really?”

“I thought I was being obvious,” he mumbled quietly, the room suddenly uncomfortably silent after their quick fight, “But I guess I wasn't if you’re so surprised.”

His chest suddenly felt light, like a dead weight had been taken off of it, and he felt stupid for not taking it away sooner. His boyfriend was now looking up at him like he was a new planet he had just discovered and it felt like everything had found its right place in the universe.

Bruce pursed his lips together, eyes jumping back and forth around Thor’s face, “We really are an odd couple, huh?”

Thor beamed, finally deciding to bridge the distance between them to hug Bruce to his chest, shaking limbs and running nose and all, “You’re the one who mentioned romcoms, now we’re stuck in their clichè hell.”

His boyfriend giggled, a happy and innocent sound, then slumped against his chest without warning, like the strength he had found to face Thor had suddenly decided to leave him all at once, “So does this mean that you believe me? Because I do really love you.”

He chuckled against his shoulder, preferring to soothingly rub his back for a while instead of answering him. Truth be told, he was still scared. They definitely needed to find some time to sit down and talk about their… thing like adults. Adults that don’t label romantic relationships as things, for starters. But it was the way that Bruce held his breath in anticipation that made him decide to trust him and his love, “I guess non-sick you will have to repeat exactly how much he loves me. Just to be sure.”

Bruce shook his head against his chest in fond amusement, but decided not to reply to that, “Can we go back to bed now? I feel like I’m about to drop to the floor.”

Thor didn’t even let him finish the sentence, already unwrapping his arms from around his boyfriend to help him sit back down, “Hey, you’re the one who insisted on squaring up to me middle school playground style, I didn’t move.”

Bruce mumbled something that sounded a suspicious lot like ‘it worked though didn’t it’ and he mercifully pretended to not hear it.

After they had calmed themselves enough from the mutual confession of love, and after a couple of rounds of teasings- “wait, that means you had a crush on me?” “I literally told you I’m in love with you” “wow you’re such a nerd”- they decided to go back to their lunch. This time both of them were sitting on the bedside to side, pretty much pressed up from hip to shoulder, and Thor felt so much more relaxed and happy than he ever did, the kind of feeling one can only experience when they’re truly home. He had a feeling Bruce shared the sentiment.

“Did I mention that I love you?” his boyfriend suddenly said at one point, his head leaned heavily against Thor’s shoulder, obviously about to fall asleep.

Regardless of the recent love confessions, his heart did a gigantic flip in his chest. He wondered whether it was going to be like this forever.

“You did mention something like that, yes,” he chuckled, reaching over to pull the tray from Bruce’s tired grasp. His boyfriend barely reacted, already more asleep than awake.

“Good,” he mumbled, snuggling even further into Thor’s side like a cat, “You better not forget it.”

He smiled, fighting the urge to put his arm around his boyfriend and pull him closer. Then, not even half a second later, he dumbly realized that he had no reason at all to restrain himself from doing so, and pulled him close enough to kiss his forehead lovingly, “I love you too.”

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep but obviously, in a way or another, he somehow had. If the grogginess in his head wasn't a good enough indicator of that, the fluffy head of curls lain over his chest surely proved his theory. He groaned softly, his muscles aching from being forced to stay still for so long, but once his eyes set on Bruce he smiled- he was really way too adorable for his own good, all snuggled up with his ruffled hair, one hand curled around Thor’s shirt as though making sure he wasn't going anywhere.

His phone went off with a notification on the nightstand, and he realized that was what had woken him up. His appointments for the day all came crashing back on him and he almost bolted out of bed, thankfully being enough self-aware to not actually jostle Bruce like that. Once he freed himself from his boyfriend- which took a lot more emotional effort than physical, especially when he made a soft grunting sound when he untangled his hand from his shirt and turned over on the bed, as though offended- he pretty much launched himself towards the phone, letting out a relieved sigh when he discovered it was only three pm. He still had all the time in the world to get to work.

Thankfully he hadn’t received many texts, so his unexpected nap hadn’t been an inconvenience to anyone. Brunhilde had sent him a pic of a tall blonde woman in a suit- that was obviously taken from behind a counter or a door and without the woman’s consent, but he didn’t have time to unpack that- with the caption this is her, for reference, and he vaguely connected it to a conversation he had with her about one of her new colleagues (Carol? Was that her name?) and whether she should ask her out or not, but he didn’t have time for that- not at the moment, anyway.

What caught his attention was Wanda’s text, the most recent one he had received. It was brief, but effective, as it made him stand up again and quickly tiptoe to the front door.

We’re outside, open up biatch.

As promised, Clint and Wanda were standing on the other side of the door, offering him a pair of matching smiles when he opened it. They lasted a grand total of two seconds before they turned into amused grins.

“Were you sleeping?” Clint chuckled, looking at the top of Thor’s head in a way that made him self-consciously reach up to feel it and yep, sure enough his hair was all standing up. Awesome.

“Occupational hazard,” he shrugged dismissively, before waving them both in. It was then that he noticed that Wanda was carrying an enormous wooden box, big enough she could probably fit in it if she curled up enough, “You need a hand with that?”

“Nah, don’t worry, it’s tea infusions, they’re not heavy,” she explained, walking into the living room like she knew the place, looking for the perfect spot to place her tools, “Good for sore throats but also generally very good tasting.”

“They also have the raddest names,” Clint added, ruffling Wanda’s hair almost automatically, looking around the room as though trying to spot Bruce, “Makes it sound like a sip of them will make you astral project. Is Brucie still asleep?”

“Yes,” Thor nodded, already heading towards the bedroom, “Or at least he was when I left him, I-“

“Hey hey, it’s our turn being nurses now, big guy,” Clint pretty much jumped in front of him to block his way, not to be an ass- his warm father-y eyes were pretty much looking into Thor’s soul-, kind of in the same way Tony had told him to chill out earlier in the morning, “You did well, but now we’re taking over.”

Thor sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat. As much as he wanted to stick around for his boyfriend he couldn’t ignore the fact that this was the third person to tell him to calm down in half a day, “Will you call me if anything happens?”

“No, we want you to worry sick,” Wanda deadpanned, looking through her tea infusions with deep interest, before glancing up at Thor with a soft reassuring smile, “I will keep you updated on everything he does, I promise. Now go get ready, you look like a street kitty who has just gotten out of his trash den.”

He probably should have been offended by that comment, or at least dumbfounded, but he beamed at the promise to keep him updated. If he quickly called Wanda ‘an angel’ in thanks as he slipped into the bathroom that was between him, Clint, and Wanda. He quickly got ready, not even caring too much about his physical appearance, convinced that the quicker he got this thing over with the sooner he could get back to Bruce, and when he emerged into the living room he squared his shoulder up, ready to face his afternoon lectures.

“He needs to take the bronchitis medicine th-“

“Three times a day, yes, Thor. I know Stephen too,” Clint smirked at him softly, obviously finding his concern endearingly amusing, “You really have very little faith in us, huh?”

“It’s not that! I just-“ he huffed, throwing his bag over his shoulder in defeat.

“I know, I’m just fucking with ya,” the other man held his hands up in defeat, walking up to Thor to pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, “He’ll be fine, I promise you. I would kill anyone who tried to hurt him.”

He hadn’t been expecting that so it weirdly touched him, “Thank you.”

Wanda emerged from the kitchen holding something in her hands, walking up to him as she scanned his face, as though trying to gauge exactly how distressed he was about his situation, “I think you should have this,” he handed him the thing, and it turned out to be a tea-bag, wrapped up in a little azure ribbon, “It’s lemon balm, it helps with anxiety and stress. No offence but I think you should have it.”

Thor chuckled, thumbing the foreign characters on the package, “What’s it called?”

“Hakuna Matata,” Clint happily supplied, before he wrapped his hands around Thor’s shoulders, gently but firmly pushing him towards the front door, “Now go before you drive me insane.”

He decided to give up and just comply, pocketing his tea. He wasn't needed any more there, anyway, he now just had to wait until the evening, when he finally got home for the weekend and could continue looking after his boyfriend.

He closed the door behind his back resolutely, walking towards the stairs- he had too much pent up energy to take the elevator. He took a total of two steps before he turned around on his heels and marched right back into the apartment. Making sure he wasn't behind to loud, he sneaked into Bruce’s bedroom to give him a quick goodbye kiss on the forehead, almost bursting out crying when he let a soft sigh in his sleep.

He then walked away again, this time for real, being considerate enough to lock the front door this time.

Clint and Wanda were so done with him they didn’t even react.

He was riding the subway when he got the text.

I love you, it read, coming from an obvious sleepy and just-woken up Bruce. A Bruce whose first thought was to remind him of how much he meant for him.

He smiled, pointedly ignoring the stare of an older woman beside him, probably wondering why he was grinning to himself like a crazy person.

I love you too.