Work Text:
A place to belong
Despite what one would think, Bruce actually likes being around people. He may be shy and awkward and terrified of turning green and hurting someone, but he enjoys the company of others.
Even before the accident that changed his life, but especially after, he felt isolated more often than not. That is, until he joins a batshit crazy team of superheroes and slowly but surely finds something he never thought he’d find again.
A safe place, a purpose and, most of all, a family.
Bruce likes people, and he likes taking care of them. It gives him something to do, something to focus on. And fuck it, he craves human interaction.
Those encounters evolve from collegial, clinical and medical to friendly and comfortable surprisingly fast and suddenly, one evening, Bruce finds himself absentmindedly running one hand through Tony’s thick, dark hair as he’s sitting in front of him on the floor with a bunch of throw pillows and tapping away on his Stark Pad. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until the inventor falls asleep, snoring lightly with his head pillowed against Bruce’s knee.
When he catches on to what he’s doing he stops, stunned. But then a small, protesting noise escapes his friend, and when Bruce starts the light scratching again, Tony hums happily, still fast asleep and Bruce has something new to think of.
Once he noticed what’s changed, he notices more of those touches, and how their frequency increases. It’s simple things, at first. Shoulders or knees lightly bumping one another, back pats, teasing elbows to the ribs.
Then there is the hair playing – hands touching gently, detangling, scratching, finger-combing, you name it. It’s equally relaxing on both ends, and often times they don’t really realize that they’re doing it, until a teammate melts into a content puddle of sleepiness under their hands.
Bruce also notices that the others seem to love his unruly curls, thick and soft, sticking up in every direction, even when all they do is running a hand through them while walking past. Just a quick, affectionate movement and the satisfying bounce back of hair.
After that he notices the hugs. Those increase, in length and intensity, and Bruce finds himself wanting more.
He’s spent so many years alone, avoiding touch at all costs but now here he is, in a tower full of people and no one is afraid of him, despite knowing who, what he is.
And if any of them knew that he thinks like that of himself they’d sure have something to say about it. Knowing them, it’d be something strongly worded.
Bruce doesn’t say anything about it though, but he practically bathes in this new feeling of belonging and safety and family. He soaks it up like a sponge, secretly afraid that it’ll stop one day.
But the craziest thing is that every single one of them seems to seek him out just as much as anyone else on the team, in any of those ways. They trust him, and they seem to genuinely like him – they do, but it’s kind of hard for him to catch up with that, because he still thinks he doesn’t deserve it.
“Hey, stop thinking so hard, or you’ll glare a hole into the wall.” Says a faintly amused voice over his head, then there are gentle hands mussing up his salt and pepper curls, which are a hot mess on a good day. The voice belongs to Clint, and he takes his time detangling, massaging and scratching his hair and scalp and Bruce happily leans into it. Human contact feels so good. He manages a small laugh, though.
“The wall had it coming.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it. You okay, though?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Wanna watch a movie?”
“Hmm…”
Clint laughs again.
“You’re about to fall asleep now, are you?”
“Hmmhmm…” is the very eloquent reply from Dr. 7 PHD’s, but it’s been a while since he’s been this relaxed, so there. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.
*+~
It doesn't take long for Bruce to realize that he's developing romantic feelings. Him recognizing it doesn't mean he'll do anything about it, though. It's too dangerous - it's another thing he might lose again one day and he doesn't want to risk it.
Maybe it's a little bit selfish of him, but he enjoys these interactions as much as he can. Just in case it'll end soon or in case he has to run again. Which is something that he always keeps in the back of his mind, dreading the day, whenever it comes.
Maybe getting attached to people was a bad idea in the first place. Maybe he deserves the inevitable heartbreak that'll come eventually and maybe…
"Bruce? Hey, are you okay? Breathe. Just keep breathing."
There is a calm and steady voice talking to him, and gentle hands touching his arm to bring him back to reality. A shine of blue light near his face, and oh. Yes, right. It’s Tony talking to him, and Bruce finds it in him to nod.
“I’m fine. I’m fine… Nothing to worry about.” He sounds shaky, blinks against the light.
The look he gets for that lets him know that he is not nearly as convincing as he’d hoped for, and Tony tells him as much. He also stays close for the rest of the night, claiming they’ve worked enough for the day, dragging him up into the common room and magically summoning the other Avengers for an impromptu movie night with Pizza.
Bruce finds himself in the middle of it all, wedged in between Tony and Clint, close enough to share body heat with them. Close enough to feel the steady heartbeats as his friends stay near at all times. Curled up next to and half on top of Clint on the other side is Natasha, while Tony makes himself comfortable propped up on Steve and putting his feet into Bruce’s lap. They also let Bruce use them as pillows, and in turn do the same to him, claiming he runs warmer because of the radiation in his blood. It is true, but Bruce can’t help the happy little spark it sends through him and he holds on tight.
Thor is sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning his back onto the sofa and happily scratching a big, golden, one eyed dog behind his ears.
Clint brought Lucky over recently, and everyone has fallen in love with him on first sight. The dog, that is. Concerning Clint, well, that’s something Bruce is still figuring out in the privacy of his own mind.
Bruce starts braiding Thor’s hair into small sections about midway through the movie. It keeps his hands occupied and it’s another way to stop him from overthinking again.
All in all, it is a good night, and when Bruce nods off 20 minutes into the second movie, they somehow manage to move without dislodging him and when he wakes up the next day, he does so on said couch with a warm and firm body behind him and two strong arms wrapped around his waist.
Warm breath tickles his neck and he blinks, squinting trough the room without his glasses on because everything is blurry. He’s still pretty sure that he’s in the living room and yeah, right, movie night and falling asleep on the couch.
The person at his back moves, mumbling incoherently and clutching him a little bit more tightly and then there is the clicking sound of four legs with claws tapping on the wooden floor. A moment later, the weight of a grown, big dog settles right on top of them, and Bruce feels warm and cozy all over again.
That is, until he starts thinking again, about how much he wishes for this to be anything else but temporary.
His heart beat or breathing pattern must change, because the arms around him tighten again and he can hear the drowsy voice he’d know anywhere next to his ear from behind him.
“Bruce, you okay?”
Clearly, Clint hasn’t been awake for long but he (used to be? Is?) a spy after all, so he does notice small changes like this in an instant. And because he’s not been awake for too long, either, Bruce turns around so Clint can see his lips move and answers in all honesty.
“I’m so happy right now but it won’t last. I’ll have to run again one day and I’m honestly kind of scared for that to happen.”
Then, he clamps his mouth shut quickly. Fuck. He’s said too much now.
Clint is quiet for a moment, processing the information before he’s had any coffee. Then, he replies, slowly and much clearer than he would have thought possible just after waking up and looks him directly in the eyes.
“You are safe here and the only reason you’d have to leave is if you want to do that. Until then, I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.”
He tries for the last part to sound like a joke, but Bruce knows that he’d being completely serious. And he wants to believe it. He wants it so bad.
“Can – can you stay with me for a bit?” he asks quietly, and smiles in relief when Clint simply hugs him tighter and rests his head near his shoulder as soon as the words are out.
“Yeah, sure. And just to put it out there, I’m very happy where I am right now. Like, mind-blowingly, really fucking happy.”
That makes him chuckle a bit, and Bruce runs one of his hands up and down his back, stroking through the shaggy blond hair on occasion.
“That’s good to know. Because, me too.” His heart is beating faster, but for once, it’s for a reason that makes him happy and giddy inside and he can’t help but feel like a teenager in love despite being in his 40s.
“Wanna stay out here? I really don’t feel like moving again, and it’ll help us avoid answering too many questions.”
A beat of silence.
“They have a betting pool, don’t they?”
“’Course they do. Good luck letting them figure out who made the first move though.”
Bruce is laughing outright now, causing Lucky to huff disapprovingly and shift on his spot on top of the humans when the movement wakes him from his slumber once again.
“I’m not spilling if you don’t.”
Clint is laughing now, too and gently presses a kiss on top of Bruce’s head. Then hejust stays there, his face pressed into the hair and smiling against it.
“Deal.”
*+~
Prompt No. 30 – Hair playing