Work Text:
Thor frowned at his reflection, specifically at the strip of black fabric hanging loosely down the front of his starched white shirt. Thirty minutes of struggling had left it a bit rumpled but no closer to tied than it had been when he started, and he silently cursed it and his brother in equal measure.
To be fair, the black tie was only Loki’s fault in the indirect way almost everything bad that happened to Thor was somehow Loki’s fault. If it weren’t for his weaselly brother’s effortless grace in Midgard fashions, Thor wouldn’t have bothered with a tuxedo in the first place. The armor and cape he’s always worn for formal events at his father’s court were more useful and far more comfortable; but somehow the idea of wearing them knowing that Loki would likely be there, blending in as effortlessly as he always did, was unappealing. Besides, he didn’t want to be the only Avenger not in a tux.
Still glaring at the tie, Thor considered very much not for the first time skipping Stark’s Christmas party all together.
He didn’t quite understand the idea behind ‘Christmas’, with its confusing and conflicting celebrations. Every person he’d asked for clarification had a different version of what Christmas entailed, from singing and drinking to some sort of house-breaking caricature of an elf that was as far from any of the elves he’d met as possible. There didn’t even seem to be a consensus about what to call the holiday, with most calling it Christmas, but some calling it Hanukkah and others Kwanzaa or Yule or Festivus.
If anything, he’d decided to go to the party in an attempt to understand the celebration. Well, that and because Doctor Banner was going.
Actually, that might have been a factor in why Thor had decided to wear the tux too.
Thor sighed and considered asking Stark’s omnipresent aide for help, even if it did mean tolerating whatever assinane nickname his host had come up with this week. Five more minutes, he decided reaching for the tie again, he would give it five more minutes, then he would ask for help.
Three of those minutes passed, leaving him no closer to bowtied, when a voice broke his concentration. “Need some help there?”
Thor whirled around to find the door to his suite open and Doctor Banner standing in the doorway, looking uncertain and awkward.
For several seconds, Thor could only stare at the doctor, while his mind tried to process his sudden appearance and the question.
Banner must have felt reproof in the silence because he rushed on, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. It’s just the party started ages ago, but I couldn't find you, so I thought I better make sure you were okay.”
The obvious distress helped Thor find his voice again. “I’m sorry, Doctor Banner. I’ll be up soon, I was just having some trouble with this thrice cursed bowtie.”
“Yeah, I guess tuxedos aren’t really an Asgardian sort of thing.”
“No, we are an advanced people.”
Banner cocked his head and said cryptically, “The universe’s loss. Did you want some help with the tie? I’d be happy to.”
“Oh, no. That’s okay, I’ll get it eventually.”
“Nonsense. If you're not at the party soon to distract him, Loki’s gonna try to take over the world again.”
“Not if you expect him too.”
Banner shrugged in assent, “True enough. Still, they might run out of those little spinach puffs you like.”
“Oh!” Thor said, with mock concern. “That is dire. Maybe you could help me with the tie then, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Banner said, crossing into the room. “Turn around and get down on your knees.”
Thor’s mind sputtered to a halt once more. “Sorry, what?”
“Well, I can’t tie a tie from the front, so I have to be behind you, but you’re too tall.”
“Oh, of course,” Thor said, quickly turning away in the hope that Banner wouldn’t notice his blush.
The blush only deeped as he sank to one knee, in the same position as he had bowed many times to his father at court. Bruce came up behind him, a solid warm presence at his back. Their eyes met in the mirror briefly before Thor looked down, embarrassed and flustered.
“So, yeah,” Banner said, clearing his throat. He reached over Thor’s shoulder to take the tie in sure hands and began, “So, you start with the one end about this much longer than the other-”
Slowly, explaining each step, Banner showed him how to twist the infernal thing around and through itself to make a crisp, tight bow.
“There!” Banner said with a small flourish. “Just like that.”
Then, to Thor’s surprise Banner pulled one of the ends, undoing the perfect knot.
“Wait!” he started but it was too late, and he was left to stare in dismay at the strip of fabric.
“Now, you try,” Banner said. His smile was so shy and mischievous and beautiful that despite himself, Thor grinned back.
He still grumbled, “Why? It was already done.”
“So? This way you learn how to do it for next time.”
“I think next time I’ll just ask you for help again.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be happy to help you whenever you need, but you’re still gonna learn.”
Thor thought about arguing, about warning Banner that he was slow and not very bright, and that every attempt to teach him had ended with his father or Loki frustrated at his lack of wit, but it would soon be clear enough to the man anyway. He sighed, “Seems I have little choice.”
“That’s right,” Banner said, a bit smug. “Now, you start with the left side longer.”
Positioning the two ends, Thor asked, “Like this?”
“No, the left side should be a bit higher,” Banner corrected. “Good, now cross them.”
It was slow going as Thor’s fingers fumbled through the unfamiliar motions, and he made mistakes. He kept waiting for Banner to get annoyed or rebuke him for his clumsiness, but it never came. Throughout, Banner remained patient, his voice calm, his hands gentle as they deftly guided Thor’s until he had produced a serviceable, if somewhat uneven, bow of his own.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Banner asked as he stepped around to Thor’s side to offer him a hand up.
Thor took the offered hand gratefully as he stood, a little unsteady after so long in the half crouch. When he was firm on his feet, he turned back to the mirror, examining the tie with a blend of pride and chagrin.
Wryly, he replied, “Easy as catching Sleipnir on a misty morning.”
“Surely not that hard?” Banner asked.
“Well, no. Or at least it wasn’t with your help. You made it look easy.”
“I’ve just had lots of practice,” Banner said with a shrug.
“Really? You wear tuxedos often?“
Looking mildly offended, Banner demanded, “Is that so hard to believe?”
“A little actually.”
When he looked more offended, Thor rushed on. “It’s only that you don’t seem like the type to go for formal parties and carousing. When I think about you, I picture you enjoying more quiet and scholarly pursuits.”
“You think about me a lot?”
“I- well- That’s not what I meant.”
Smiling, Banner let him off the hook. “You’re not wrong. I don’t like parties really, and I probably wouldn't know how to tie a bowtie very well if I hadn’t had a thing for James Bond when I was young.”
Thor fought down an irrational stab of jealousy, trying to keep his voice disinterested as he asked, “James Bond?”
“Oh, he was the main character in a series of movies. He was famous for being handsome and debonair. I dressed up as him for several Halloweens and in the process I got pretty good with bowties. It wasn’t until high school that I realized I was destined to be a Q, not a Bond.”
There was a lot there Thor didn’t understand. Movies? Halloween? High School? Finally, he settled on the question that seemed the least likely to make him look hopelessly idiotic. “A Q?”
“Oh, sorry. Q was the nerdy, smart guy in the movies. He built all the gadgets Bond used to save the world.”
“That does sound like you, always working to save the world with your intelligence.” Thor met Banner’s eyes in the mirror and smiled.
The smile he returned was bitter. “Yeah, The Hulk and I have done the world so much good.”
Turning around, Thor rested a hand on Banner’s shoulder. “Yes. You have, both of you.”
Banner looked down, disbelief written across his face. Gently, Thor placed his fingers under Banner’s chin, tilting it up until their eyes met again. “It’s true. In fact, I think you are more like this James Bond than you realize.”
When he still looked mulish, Thor added in a lighter tone, “You certainly are handsome and debonair enough.”
Banner rolled his eyes, but he also smiled. He pushed Thor’s hand away and looked down, ostensibly to twitch his tie a bit straighter.
Nervously, Thor put a protective hand over the bow and took a step back before Banner could untie the tie again to make him practice the knot.
When Banner raised his eyebrows at the gesture, Thor turned the step into a deep, courtly bow, and asked, “Would you care to accompany me back upstairs to the party, Doctor Banner?”
To Thor’s delight Bruce blushed again as he took the offered arm. “Bruce is fine, um, Mister Odinson.”
“Please, call me ‘God of Thunder.’”
“Really?” Bruce asked. “‘cause if I recall correctly, when I beat you on Sakaar, you were the Lord of Sparkles.”
“Lies and slander!” Thor roared.
With a laugh, Bruce said, “I have a lot of witnesses...”
Their heated debate lasted all the way through the elevator ride up to the party.