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Bruce’s coffee tasted burnt. It always did, when it came from the little machine, tucked away in the corner of his apartment. Well, little as an operative term. It was firmly hulk-sized to accomodate for the green, buttons large and easy to operate. But the coffee was objectively terrible, from any standard.
He would use the fancy coffee that lay at the back of his cupboards, but it didn’t seem right. That coffee was for him and Thor, when they settled down for an afternoon tea and cake, the light turning to an amber tinge and the warm wool of Thor’s cardigan tickling his skin. It didn’t seem right to drink it now, not when Thor had left precisely 15 minutes ago, according to his watch that he hadn’t managed to stop checking.
15 minutes since the rain had stopped. 15 minutes since Thor had clambered onto a spaceship, a duffel bag slung over his back, and left without a word. 15 minutes since that final backward glance, awkward and fumbled, mouth opening with words that the God didn’t know how to say, how to express. Not when there was 2 minutes till lift off, and Rocket was yelling at him to shut the door already, blondie. We gotta go.
Thor had to go. And the words were left unspoken
Bruce took another drink from his mug, cradling the oversized ceramic in his hands, trying to warm his palms. Not from the cold icelandic air (although it was cold, cold and biting, enough to send shivers through Thor’s body that just made Bruce that more inclined to wrap him in his arms, to keep him safe, to keep him warm), but just to feel something. Anything. Anything except from the faint bitterness from the back of his throat, settling in an uncomfortable lump in his chest.
Thor had just left. After everything, after Tony, he’d just left.
Bruce should’ve stopped him. Should’ve said something, an invitation to stay, maybe. Or a plea to go with him. Or just a request for 5 more minutes. That was all he needed. 5 minutes to croak out those 3 words to Thor before he left… well, it wasn’t forever, was it?
No, it couldn’t be forever. Thor might be gone for a few months, maybe a year or two, but it wouldn’t be forever. He just needed time, right? That was all. Just some time to clear his head in the emptiness of space.
It wasn’t forever. Bruce couldn’t accept forever.
A sudden crack of thunder jarred him out of his thoughts, sending the cup crashing to the floor and a yelp from Bruce as he jumped back. The hot coffee wasn’t quite as scalding as it would be if he was Bruce Bruce, Hulk’s thick skin provided him that protection. But instinct was hard to shake.
That crack of thunder had been loud - too loud. Counting Mississippi's wasn’t really going to help when the storm seemed to be churning right above his head, rain pounding against his windows that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.
He turned to the window, staring at the black clouds, alight with blue lightning. That confirmed his suspicions - this was a Thor storm.
A knocking at the door followed, loud and urgent, and Bruce was on his feet before his mind even caught up with him. His feet were moving across creaking floorboards, but his mind was stuck on Thor, Thor’s here, he came back. He didn’t abandon you, he’s there. On the other side of the door, a thin panel of wood and metal, that was all that was separating them. Not the void of space. Not the emptiness of the gaps between stars.
He opened the door with perhaps a little too much force, given the loud protest of the hinges above him, and Thor’s face was staring back at him. Wild beard, wilder eyes, face slightly tinged red and chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
“Sorry. I couldn’t…” Thor blinked up at him, narrowing his eyes as if he was staring at the sun.
“I couldn’t leave. Not without talking to you. I’m sorry, I just… Sorry.”
“It’s ok.”
Bruce’s hands were moving of their own accord, fingers gently brushing against Thor’s shoulder, gently, as if he was reaching out to a mirage. Unsure if he was even real.
“It’s ok. I’m glad you came back. I...I missed you.”
“Missed me?” A nervous laugh came then, Thor’s fingers nervously digging into the fabric of his sleeves, working threads loose.
“It’s been 15 minutes. You can’t have missed me.”
“I did.”
Bruce felt that familiar feeling begin to claw up his throat, strangling him, the beginnings of tears beginning to prick the sides of his eyes and fuck, he felt pathetic.
Thor was here, in front of him, in the here and now. He had his 5 minutes, he had them, here in his hands. And here he was, wasting them on tears.
It really was awfully inconsiderate of Thor, and the rest of the world, to go blurry. He knew Thor knew better than to be blurry in front of him, it was rude.
Even ruder for him to gently shush Bruce, stepping inside the apartment and taking the larger man in his arms, gently directing his face down into the crook of his shoulder. Ruder still to lower him to the floor when his legs couldn’t support him, when the weight of all the loss suddenly got just that little bit too much to bare, to lean over him so blonde hair was tickling his cheek, the gentle rumble of thunder tethering him to reality.
“Bruce, Bruce.” Thor’s voice was close to his ear, but hushed to a quiet whisper, nose pressed into thick curls of black hair.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I knew if I said goodbye to you I’d just...I don’t know, I’d do something stupid and mess things up. And I can’t mess up things with you, I can’t.”
It took a while for Bruce to collect himself enough to choke out a few more words, taking a slow and stabilising breath to banish the waver from his voice, and wipe away the dampness of his eyes with his sleeve.
“Thor, stop apologising. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bruce sat back, one hand wrapping firmly around Thor’s wrist to pull him closer, closer, to rest his head against the cushion of Bruce’s chest. Because Bruce was damned if he was letting go of Thor now.
“You need some space, I get it.”
“No, no. I shouldn’t have left without saying anything to you. That’s…it’d be awful of me, Bruce. There’s things I need you to know and I didn’t say them because, I don’t know. I guess I’m a coward.”
“Thor, stop.”
Bruce placed his hand gently over Thor’s mouth, shaking his head with a watery smile.
“You’re not a coward. But...I would like to talk. If you want to.”
Thor nodded enthusiastically under his hand.
“Great. Then...let’s talk. But, maybe we can do it on the sofa. Instead of on the floor.”
***
Afternoon turned to evening, and the 5 minutes turned into a final night together. Thor would leave in the morning, that was something he’d made clear. Earth held bad memories for him, there were still gaps in his soul that had been carved out by golden gauntlets and glowing stones, and he needed time to figure those things out. He’d said as much to Bruce, barely meeting his eyes over the steam from his cup of coffee, cradled in mitten-wrapped hands.
He’d told him a few other things, as they’d lain in bed that night. Words spoken into the comforting warmth of Bruce’s chest, legs intertwined, green fingers tangled in blonde hair.
He’d told him that he loved him. Always had, apparently. Starting from when he couldn’t really place a particular point, but Sakaar, it seemed, had opened up more doorways than interdimensional wormholes.
And Bruce had bared his soul before the light of the dying star. Told him his own whispered worries, deep into the night.
“I don’t wanna lose you.” He’d murmured into Thor’s hair, pressing as close as he could, as humanly possible, curled around him tightly.
“Not when I feel like I’ve only just found you, after all these years.”
“You won’t.”
Thor had stretched, pressing a careful kiss onto the bottom of Bruce’s jaw.
“I’ll come back for you, Bruce. I always will.”
And the next morning, he was gone. Left after a clinging hug, and then a kiss, and ok, maybe a few more kisses on top of that, but eventually they had broken apart. Thor’s hand wrapped around Stormbreaker’s handle, and he’d turned back to Bruce, leaning into the soft touch of an emerald hand.
“I’ll call you often. Any chance I get, I’ll call.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll visit, too. Whenever we’re close enough in the ship.”
“I know, Thor.”
“And If I see anything that reminds me of you, I’ll get it, and I can bring it ba-”
Bruce bent downward, cutting off his next few words with another painfully gentle kiss.
“Thor, I know. I’ll be okay.” He leant forward, pressing his forehead against the demi-gods, a shaky sigh escaping his lips.
“Go on. Get outta here. You stay away too long and Quill’s gonna regain control of the ship.”
“Unlikely. I’m very charismatic. Those guys love me too much.”
Thor grinned, a little tear-stained maybe, but a grin. A spark was back into his eye, the blue once again lit up like the lightning that crackled around Stormbreaker’s handle.
“I’ll see you soon, beloved.”
Bruce raised his hand in a wave, a small smile pricking the corners of his mouth as the wind swirled, and the storm began to rage.
“I’ll see you soon.”