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“Good one!” Steve calls out, pleased, body thrumming with the effort of physical activity that actually impacts him – rare these days. He grins, shield strapped to his left arm, and raises his right to slap Hulk on the back. Well. On the elbow. Easier to reach than the back, even as tall as he is now.
He doesn’t really think about it. It’s been over half a year since they all met. Eight missions they’ve worked together on now, plus New York. Four training sessions before this where the Hulk has made an appearance, on top of dozens of strategizing sessions and general work-outs he’s shared with the rest of the team.
Steve trusts these people, this team, Earth’s Avengers. They’ve grown friendly, getting dinner together after training, crashing together after missions. It’s not quite the camaraderie of the Howling Commandos, forced into restricted bunks and tight quarters as they crossed a continent fighting a war, but it’s comfortable. Tony ribs him about his understanding of modern technology; Steve plays it up more than he probably should. Nat’s terrifying but a good sparing partner, her agility more than enough to keep up with Steve’s bulk. Clint’s a laugh and a half, but despite that, on-mission, he can have a razor-sharp focus better than anyone Steve’s met. Thor’s more transient than the rest of them, but Steve enjoys going all out against him in fights and learning about 21st century Earth together.
And Bruce. Hulk. Two partners in one. Bruce’s quiet care and the Hulk’s fierce protectiveness over those he considers to be his.
They’ve all got their hard spots, their stubborn points, their clashing personalities – Tony’s arrogance, Clint’s tendency to lurk and hide away, Nat’s secrets, Thor’s… well, arrogance there too. Bruce’s self-doubt. Hulk’s anger. Even so, Steve trusts these people. So he doesn’t think about it.
It’s been a good training session. The junk yard is destroyed, but that was kind of the point; half of training with the Hulk is teaching him when not to smash – the other half is letting him go at it, and today was the latter option. Still, even going all out, Hulk had been contained. He’d listened, he’d worked with them, he’d smashed what they’d told him to smash and gone where Steve had asked him to go.
So Steve’s happy. It’s a good day. He’s adjusting, learning to live here, in this time, with these people. And he slaps Hulk on the elbow, friendly-like, joking, grinning.
Hulk doesn’t take it that way. Hulk, Steve’s realizing, tensing as the behemoth growls and whirls to face him, has never probably experienced a friendly slap to the back in his life, short that it is. (Bruce, he also thinks distantly, probably hasn’t in some time either.)
Shield covering his torso, Steve’s center of gravity drops as Hulk snarls at him, prepared to… he’s not sure. Flight’s usually better than fight against Hulk, but it doesn’t exactly speak to teamwork. There’s a tense second as they stare at each other, Hulk puzzling out what just happened, Steve puzzling out what to do next.
Clint settles the problem for the both of them. Easy-going, jokester, sharpshooter Clint, who always sees more than everyone seems to think he does.
Bounding up to Steve’s side, grinning, unflinching in the face of the Hulk, Clint thumps him on the back. “Got that right, Cap!” he says, and Steve can tell he’s brighter and more enthusiastic than normal, but he’s not sure Hulk will be able to. After the pat on the back, Clint lifts his arm and sets it on Steve’s shoulder, leaning on him.
Steve lets him, carefully relaxing his legs. He can tell what Clint is doing.
Hulk’s head tilts. His expression shifts from startled and angry to startled and confused.
Clint grins up at him. “I’d lean on your shoulder, big guy,” he says easily, “but it’s a little high up for me.” His grin shifts into a frown, but it’s a practiced, puzzled frown, still bright with energy. “Huh, not too many people out there who could do that, huh?”
“Hulk’s shoulder?” Hulk asks.
Clint’s grin returns. “Heck, Steve couldn’t even reach your back, could he?” he asks. To demonstrate, he pulls his weight from Steve’s shoulder again, freeing up his arm to give Steve another slap on the back.
Hulk’s head tilts further, but he’s standing straighter now, no longer upset or ready to attack.
“Hey, I know what we can try!” It’s Tony, who’d been floating just overhead all this time, coming in for a landing at Steve’s side. Or, no, wait. He stops himself still a couple feet off the ground, keeping his hands and feet far enough from Steve and Clint, his head level with Hulk’s. “How about a high-five?” He holds up one hand, the power, thankfully, disabled.
Steve feels a swift lance of sheer relief strike through his heart. Not at the fact that they’ve diffused the situation, not at the fact that Hulk is no longer about to attack: at the swift way Clint and Tony have stepped in, at the way Nat and Thor are hovering supportive in the background, at the way they all understand the problem here, without ever having to say a word.
It takes some time, but Tony – with everyone’s help – manages to teach Hulk how to high-five him, and to pull back from putting too much force behind it. Steve lines up behind Clint for his turn, Nat just behind him. He knows she’s still the most apprehensive about interacting with Hulk, and for good reason, so it’s good to see her there. It’d taken Hulk a little time to warm up to her, and Steve’s still not sure if it’s residual holdover from the fact that Nat was the one to recruit Bruce, leftover from when Hulk fought her on the helicarrier, or because she’s the most firmly entrenched in SHIELD than all of them. (Technically, Clint is too, and for longer, but, well, that’s not the kind of logic Hulk follows.) Thor rounds out the line, grinning as he waits his turn.
Hulk’s high-fives are more actually him holding his hand low to the ground and each of them slapping his giant palm with their whole hands, but it’s probably better that Hulk’s not the one delivering the blow anyway. Steve delivers his high-five with the solemnity the occasion deserves and resists the urge to give the Hulk a hug. They’ve confused him enough for one day, and that would be more difficult than giving him a proper slap on the back.
When it comes to Thor, though, Hulk hesitates, drawing his hand back a little. For a moment, Steve worries – has Hulk been interpreting their playful rivalry differently than everyone had assumed? – but only a moment. He, and everyone else, is quick to catch on to the thoughtful glint in Hulk’s eyes. The behemoth doesn’t have the intelligence of his counterpart, but he’s not stupid. He knows Thor’s sturdier than the rest of them. Steve’s half convinced Hulk’s decided he can just slap Thor aside, the way he has before, when, with careful, practiced movements, Hulk gives Thor a high-five.
It's cautious and worried, but it’s more forceful than he was for the other, enough to rock Thor’s careful stance, and put a grin on Hulk’s face.
“Great training session,” Steve cuts in, trying to remind everyone that he’d been attempting to wrap things up half an hour ago before this whole thing had started. Thor’s got an echoing grin on his face, and Steve knows what that means. He’d very much like to wrap things up before the two of them get into a wrestling match to determine who’s stronger.
The look Thor throws his way says he knows what Steve’s trying to do, but he doesn’t push it, only steps to Hulk’s side and slaps his elbow, the way Steve had done to kick things off. “Indeed!” the Asgardian cries out. “A worthy bout!”
Sometimes, Steve swears Thor’s just talking that way for the laughs it gets out of Clint and Tony’s subsequent irritation. (Sometimes, he does the same, so he can’t really judge.)
After that, it is actually easier than usual to wrap things up: often, it’s calming Hulk down that takes longer than the cleanup. Keyed up by adrenaline – from missions or training – it takes some convincing for him to back down, though less so during training. Today, he’s already mellowed a bit from the high-five practice, and in a good mood. Clint pulls out the blanket from where he’d stashed it so Bruce doesn’t have to lean on the piles of dirty junk around them, bare-footed and bare-chested, and the rest of them disperse to tidy up what little needs rearranging for next time.
.
Training went well today. Bruce can’t always tell – he and Hulk don’t always share everything – but today… Today was a good day. The transformation back was easy (well, easier), and the team was all smiles when he joined them again, and he has snippets and snatches of Hulk’s joy at smashing cars and throwing hunks of metal around. Clint had been good enough to fetch his shoes, so he didn’t have to walk barefoot and risk stepping on a nail, and Tony had been quick to hand him a bottle full of his electrolyte drink as soon as he’d unsuited and joined them on the jet.
Sitting down, Bruce flinches in surprise when Clint flops into the seat next to him, careless and nearly boneless, shoulder pressing against Bruce’s own. Despite his own exhaustion, Bruce straightens in his seat, trying to lean away and give Clint the space he clearly needs. Clint just grins up at him, adjusting his legs so that his right thigh presses against Bruce’s left.
Bruce stares for a moment, startled by the contact, then flinches again when Tony drops into the seat on his right, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he starts to monologue about the training and Hulk’s performance. Carefully, slowly, without any risk of the Hulk coming back, Bruce relaxes under Tony’s arm. This isn’t so unusual. Clint’s not usually so close with him (most people aren’t), but Tony’s never been afraid, Tony’s always been this hands-on. On his own terms, always – better to let Tony initiate things, Bruce has noticed, not that he’d attempt the opposite – but touchy, yes.
Except, then, Steve gives him a hand up when they disembark. That night, standing in Tony’s massive kitchen as they rustle up food with drinks in hand, Nat leans against him, elbow on his shoulder, casual as you please. For a little while, Bruce just, attributes it to good moods. They’re getting used to the Hulk – getting used to him – and it was clearly a good day.
Except, then, it keeps happening. Over and over, during the days and weeks to come. Teammates pressing against him, Nat grabbing his shoulder to slip on her shoes, Tony ribbing him in the lab, Steve helping him up after each transformation, Clint asking for high-fives (which seems oddly familiar, in the usual déjà vu he has when he’s remembering something Hulk did), Thor finding excuses to pat him on the back.
Bumped elbows in corridors; kicked feet under the table at shared jokes and sly glances; a hand on his arm, asking him to pass the salt. People, leaning into his space again, reaching past him, passing by without trying to avoid contact. Joking handshakes after a successful result in the lab, playful shoves and lighthearted pokes.
He flinches, at first. Over and over, the same way he had on the helicarrier, when Tony had jabbed an electrical circuit into his side. But it keeps happening, and he doesn’t know why. The team has demonstrated by now that they’re not afraid of him. They’ve demonstrated by now that they’re not afraid of Hulk. It’s still startling, a little, the casual intimacy. It’s unsettling a little, too, so many people he’s letting into his personal space, people he’s not afraid of, gestures and touches that he doesn’t worry will bring out the Hulk.
Eventually, Bruce will admit, if only to himself, that it’s… not unpleasant. He leans into the touches, bumps up against others every now and again, testing, always careful. He stands next to Nat when she has to change her shoes and offers up his own hand for Clint when he might want a high-five. He craves it, on the bad nights, that casual acceptance.
It’s weird, and startling, and he’s not sure that he deserves the kindness. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask them to stop. He doesn’t want them to stop. There’s a lot that Bruce doesn’t like, coming back to civilization, working tangentially with an agency that thinks they could cage him. But this… he could get used to this. In fact, he’s pretty sure, he already has.