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i.
After Sakaar, they all needed rest. Not one in the Statesman, floating in uncertainty. A real rest, where Thor can feel the sun's warmth through the window. Where Thor can forget he's just been named King for a day, and just, sleep.
When the Statesman lands, Valkyrie and Thor had arranged for Asgard to settle in Norway. Though she didn't understand why Norway specifically at first, they soon got through the language barrier with promises of duck and goats. Bruce himself hasn't been there, he knows, has read a few brochures, but never stepped foot. Eventually a part of Tonsberg became New Asgard after some talk with the locals, a few hours of asking to rest for the moment, and eventually calling Tony for a favour. Though the billionaire ended up buying the land, with a note; "I'm investing real high in New Asgard. Don't disappoint me."
During all of that, Loki and Bruce, who kept a safe distance from him, had both passed out on hay while Valkyrie negotiated with the citizens. Bruce meant to meet with the Avengers, but right now, he's as tired as Loki who's already sunk deep in the grains. Thor did the talking. Trying his best to appear friendly despite his regal form and missing eye.
It took a few hours before they finally seized the deal. Finalized at night when Tony sent Happy to Norway to finish the papers.
--
At last, Bruce wields the key of a house in his hand. Thor's house. They decided to share a place for now, despite Happy's offer to fly him back to the Avengers Tower. Sure, a private plane was fancy and all, but Bruce didn't have the energy for it. He was finally home, and he couldn't simply leave Thor.
For a few moments, Bruce fumbled with getting the key into place. Thor let himself breathe patiently beside him, his presence was an abundance of tiredness mixed with pent-up need to rest. Even kings needed sleep. "Uh," Bruce forced a weak smile, getting it wrong once more. From behind, Thor stood silent as the breeze caressed him, it was rare to just be motionless. No wars to end, or battle to win. It felt silly to enjoy this idleness, to stand still like a thousand years old oak tree basking in Bruce's dim warmth.
Stubbornly, the key refused to enter. Though if Thor had to guess, it was Bruce losing coordination to exhaustion. Thor didn’t think, he just gently wrapped his hand around Bruce's, readjusting the key's direction with his hold. Pretending the skin contact doesn’t send lightning to dance on his hand. "Let me," was all he said. In another moment, Bruce let out a long exhale, Thor silently noticed as a gust of white fog left his mouth, before he focused back on the lock. He didn't miss Bruce's heavy eyelids fighting sleep. Thor firmed his hand around Bruce's as he turned the key.
As the latch clicked, Thor gave a grin of his own, opening the door wide for both of them. Bruce dawdled at the entrance, observing the place, whereas Thor didn't take haste to find the bedroom. Passing the plainly furnished living room, the walls with paintings hung on them, Thor soon found the bedroom. He dropped his belongings down, a thump marked its descent. Then, Bruce's head peeked from the doorway. A quick reminder he hadn't been alone in this whole journey. Thor let a smile take place on his face.
When Bruce reached the bedroom’s doorway, he seemed to have gone still.
Thor was crouched on the floor, sorting his clothes when he noticed his hesitance. His one good eye followed to where Bruce's had landed. To the one queen-sized bed. "Banner, you seem upset." He frowned, before straightening. In response, Bruce's hand scratched at the back of his neck. "The bed looks kinda small," a pause. "I can sleep on the couch, if that's okay." His voice shy, as if the couch was already crossing a line. Thor's gaze darted to the bed, and back to him. "Nonsense," he said. Thor could not bear another night alone. "You are staying."
Despite Thor's reassurance, Bruce remained frozen by the doorway, tight-lipped. Seeing this, Thor felt an urge to soothe those creases away. "Banner," his voice called, as he rose with one hand carrying a white cotton shirt. "You deserve rest. The bed is ours to share." Bruce didn't falter just yet, so Thor resorted to his final weapon, a godly Asgardian pout most ordinary human fell for.
Somewhere under Bruce's lips, he mumbled a profanity. "Okay, yeah." His lips curled upwards, no hints of pretend, this time. "I'll take.. whichever side." Bruce made a gesture towards the bed, hiding his nervousness under a forced grin. Thor had secured another win. "Great! I will take the one nearest to the window." At once, Bruce's icy guards cracked, Thor beamed when something similar to a chuckle escaped him. This Bruce.. this human, with such precious laughter. Every smile felt like a victory.
"Are you going to sleep now?” Bruce settled himself on the bed, his hands kneading on the blanket. Moonlight sneaks from the window, and unto him. Painting him as if he was a missing memoir of Earth's past. This light softened his features, making Thor forget all they've been through just for this brief night. To his surprise, it felt intimate, as if this sight belonged only to him. "Ah, no. I will change my clothes first. Will you?" Thor fixed on Bruce's back stained by hay, from where he had laid in the hay with Loki.
"Clothes.. shirt." Bruce abruptly rose from his seat, hands scraping the grains stuck on his back. Thor couldn't tell whether he had cursed by now or said a clothing article. "I don't.. I didn't bring any." The scientist's voice was quieter during night. "You can use mine, Banner." He passed his white-shirt. Bruce's eyes landed onto the shirt, and to him. There was a brief second of reluctance. Then, his hand dug into his pocket, withdrawing a small-metal tin. They exchanged items.
"Here. Have this. It's a, uh," Bruce walked and shut the door behind him. "Some lamb-wool jelly thing. The townspeople said it's great for wounds. You could, you know, use this for your eye, so it's not itchy."
Thor's eye widened in pleasant surprise, he hadn't considered to do anything about it lately. "How did you find such stuff?" Curiously, he inspected the jar in his hand. "I actually, well I saw this farmer. I thought you might need medicine, so I told him I'd tutor his daughter Physics in exchange for some. And I did! For an hour while you were with Valkyrie." Bruce explained, regaining his usual aplomb as he spoke. It was one of the many qualities Thor admired.
"I see.. Thank you." Thor soon busied himself with the ailment. Seizing this chance, Bruce gave a curt nod and undressed himself. A simple pull and tug with his back facing Thor. The white shirt was visibly larger and stretched out for his figure, the collar hung around his neck. Still, it gave him double the comfort than the shirt before.
While Bruce changed his clothes, Thor had taken off his eyepatch. Heimdall would occasionally check on his wounds during the days, making this the first time he had taken care of his own scar. Amidst the dark, he guessed the depth of his injury, wincing when he'd accidentally pressed too hard, his good eye tried to focus on where his hand reached. Before Thor could react, Bruce's hand had taken hold of his wrist, rendering him still. "That's-- do you need my help, Thor?" Bruce redirected his hand, his touch lingering over Thor's arm gear. "Yes. Please."
"Okay. Wait here." Quickly Bruce removed his hand where it had been resting. Thor stayed put, wringing his hands together on his lap as he waited. Within the bathroom, he could make out the noise of a faucet running. Then Bruce returned, brushing his wet hand on the hem of his shirt. "Banner, you're back." Thor’s face softened.
"Yeah. You know, you sort of need a clean hand for this. Don't want to risk getting an infection," skillfully, Bruce took a hold of the jar sitting on the bed. How tentative it was, for Bruce to run his finger along the edges of Thor's scar. Silently observing its healing skin. "Is this okay?" He asked, sliding a hand underneath Thor's jaw, guiding him to the scarce illumination cast by the moon.
Stepping into the light, Bruce's hazel eyes caught radiance. Thor found himself being okay.
"Yes. It's.. good," he had it at the tip of his tongue. It was more than nice. Bruce's steadiness as he scooped a fingerful of the ointment to cover the area of his scar, his dexterousness, combined with certainty was peaceful. Bruce is peaceful. Thor let out a yawn, sinking his chin into Bruce's hand, like a spoiled housecat. Even with a seated Thor, their height difference remained a struggle. He noticed the way Bruce had to scramble to get comfortable. Unprompted, Bruce slid a knee between Thor's legs. "I thought Asgardian Kings didn’t get this sleepy, no?" Bruce huffed, then lightly smiled. Thor is aware his acts are purely to help, he still couldn't help it when his throat tightened suddenly at the distance.
"Be still."
Immediately, Thor stiffened, before an exhale passed his lips, and he relaxed into a statue.
"Ah.. And I thought Midgardian scientists would not be this bold," he beamed when shyness replaced his languor. At the mention of Bruce asserting charge, the scientist diminished all too easily. Heat rushed to his face. "That was- that wasn't my goal." Bruce tried to amend, he fixed his knee almost instantly, but Thor hooked his finger under Bruce's knee, with a face too earnest to decline. "You're alright, Banner. I understand it's to help me."
There's a brief interval as the silence stretched, until Bruce swallowed his nerves and nodded. "Do you really have to tease me right now?"
"No. It is just you and your featherlight touches," Thor grinned.
"Ouch. You can't be King if you're too easily distracted like this, you know." With care, Bruce cautiously spread the cool jelly over Thor's scar. "You are very distracting, Banner. Should I send you away?" He tilted his head, but Bruce firmly corrected his jaw to look straight. "Close your eyes, Thor. I'm practically not there." His grumble turned all too affectionately. Thor dismissed the notion. "Then I won't be able to look at your face."
"Exactly. I guess that's the whole purpose of it." Bruce frowned as Thor did, maybe distraction is fine. If only for a night. Thor doesn't want to be bound to his duty as such. "It is not a very glorious purpose," he reasoned. Though it's effectiveness was proven false when Bruce simply shrugged and resumed his activity. Thor can fight through this drowsiness, he's battled worse. So why is keeping his eyes open near Bruce unfairly hard?
"You okay? Your face is red." Bruce's hand stroked at his jaw, Thor lifted his hand to envelope Bruce's. "I will be," he smiled.
In Bruce's eyes, something similar to amazement sparkled. Brown eyes softening at Thor. Signaling the god's success at reassurance. "Flirt," Bruce blunted out, and pressed a soft kiss to Thor's injury. He felt those gentle lips against his marred eyelid, only for a swift second, not enough. But Thor restrained himself from pulling Bruce in to relive that memory. "I rather believe you are the one flirting."
"Who, me?" Bruce shook his head. "Just making sure you'll be fine."
"I think I will be 'finer' with another kiss, Banner. One more. For medical reasons?”
Thor felt his cheeks squished by Bruce's hold then, his lips parted. "Look at that. You look like a fish." He emphasized with another squeeze. "I am.. Asgard's King! How dare you--" Thor struggled to speak against the hand, and his trials were stopped when Bruce leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead. The warmth fleeting, and yet, it left him with a mark of love. "Did you say something, Thor?" Bruce's eyes, so unfathomably gentle and brown, met his. Halting Thor's train of thought.
"I.. No." He answered, as heat rushes up to his face. "I suppose, sleep is getting to me." Hopeless, he feigned ignorance. Though it's quite hard when Bruce's gaze is practically showering him sunlight. Thor decided the moon deserved a compliment.
"It is, huh?" Bruce snickered, "Yeah-- wow, I have never seen you so flushed! That's kind of adorable, actually."
Nay! The Mortal has equipped himself with more boldness. "Stop.. Banner. You are making it worse.." Thor tried to escape this hold, yet he found himself undeniably pliant and obedient in Bruce's hand. "What will Heimdall think of me when he sees me like this?"
"He'll think.. I did a good job on your eye?" With raised eyebrows, Bruce brushed his thumb on Thor's cheekbone. There's no denying, his scar never felt better. Thor sighed. "Yes, you did."
Fueling Bruce's satisfaction, he lowered his touches shortly after. As the giddy-feeling faded, Thor felt his sleepiness return. "We should rest, Banner." Bruce fixed his attention to Thor. "Banner? You can call me Bruce, you know. We're not in the ship anymore." A yawn cut through him, "and you shouldn't be sleeping in that. It's dirty." His hand looped around the strap of Thor's tunic.
"It has served me well. But you are right, it's unsuitable for sleep." Thor's hand rested on Bruce's knee, who shied away just a fraction. "Let me change, then I will return to you on the bed." Suddenly Bruce's face grimaced, his hand went to support himself on Thor's leg. "That uh, sounds weird. Think I'll just sleep now." Thor, a little perplexed, tilted his head.
"Have I embarrassed you?”
"Kinda," Bruce frowned. Unable to hold back his smile, he gave in, flashing the brightest grin Thor has ever graced himself in. "Well. I will take it." Ceremoniously, Bruce pulled his knee off the bed. Slid off his shoes, and took the side of the bed nearest the window. Thor watched as Bruce settled on his back, folding his hands behind his head, and closed both eyes.
Deliberately, Thor dipped down to his bag containing clothes, picking up a garment at random. It's from Asgard, fit to his size. It took longer to unclasp his tunic than to slide in his shirt, but he does it anyways. Finally dressed in a new outfit, he joins Bruce in the bed. Since the past few minutes, he had remained in the same position as Thor last saw. Breathing steadily.
"Bruce," Thor whispered, as he cozied himself next to him. "Are you awake?" he kept his volume low, not wanting to bother him, if Bruce is truly slumbering. Then, those eyes opened once more, weighed down by sleep. "I'm here." He said, releasing one hand to caress at Thor's cheek, of course, Thor had to lean into it. "Ah, great."
Thor pulled him into a hug, earning a grumble from Bruce.
"Hey--" he complained, with one eye closed. "I'm not a pillow, you know. I'm my own person. You have to respect that." Bruce said as he snuggled into place, finding the slump between Thor's shoulder and neck too tempting. Thor's chest shook with a deep-laugh, as he loosened his grip. "Forgive me," answered Thor. Yet Bruce gathered them closer. Little did Bruce know, he had been his anchor throughout all this chaos. The only person who made sense.
"You're not really sorry, though." Neither is Bruce, though he'd put his hand all over Thor instead of admitting anything.
"I find myself happier being guilty rather than sorry," Thor said as a matter of fact. Relief loosening in his chest at how Bruce's breathing toned down. "Yeah? Me too." He mumbled. Thor could forever do this, see as Bruce loses to sleep, and wait until the sun casts its glow unto them. Bruce seemed to have noticed, his eyes fluttering open then landing on him. "Thor?"
A hum answered, Thor's consciousness still intact, even if it is slipping.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, you know. But I'm really sleepy and I just want to close my eyes right now." A corner of Bruce's lips curled up, before they turned into a yawn. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Always," answered Thor. In truth, he doesn't really want this night to end, but he knows tomorrow is waiting. Bruce will be there, as promised, and they will wake up to a brand new day. Bruce readjusted his position, finding shelter on Thor's chest. From here he could smell his scent on Bruce's shirt, then sun-dried grass, and warm earth. Neither of them had showered. It wasn't important now. Not when his usual throb in the eye has stopped, and they're together.
"Thank you, Bruce." Thor's hushed voice came. Lingering amid them like a cloud does between the blue sky and the brown earth.
Half-awake, Bruce snuggled closer. "For what?"
"Everything."
- fin