This is another fic in my Radioactive Boyfriends series. It is rated M and will feature some Hulk action (a la Let's Glow in the Dark). Comments welcome!

My Boyfriend is Indestructible
Chapter 1

It started out as a very normal Friday evening. Bruce sat at the computer in his apartment, looking over the latest data package from Dr. Connors, while Peter did his school reading stretched out on the floor. They had spent so many nights in a similar manner that Bruce sometimes teased that Peter had wasted his money bothering to rent an apartment at all.

Just as common was when Peter tired of his studying and crept up behind Bruce. Sometimes he would simply sit himself down in Bruce's lap and steal a kiss, but on that very normal Friday, he started instead with a shoulder massage. Bruce had no complaints. He leaned back into Peter's strong hands and only pretended to continue scrolling through blood toxin reports. By the time Peter got around to kissing the back of his ear, he was already making a mental list of what he felt up to doing that night, where to begin...

"Hey," said Peter, reaching forward to undo a few buttons on Bruce's shirt. "Bruce."

"Hey, Peter," said Bruce, scrolling back up to the point in his document where he'd stopped paying attention.

"Are you...busy?"

Bruce tilted his head to the side, and Peter obliged him with a gentle kiss to his neck. "Not particularly," he answered.

"Good." Peter kissed him again, and then he wrapped his arms across Bruce's chest, holding him tight. "Because I want us to have a conversation about the Hulk."

Bruce went still. He looked to his monitor as if for help, and the words subject remains unresponsive to treatment jumped out at him. He closed the file. "Why?"

Peter exhaled sharply against his ear. "Because it's important," he said, and when he took a step back, Bruce and his chair came with him. "Because he's part of you, and that affects me. And because you promised we would."

"I made that promise hoping I could put it off until you let it go," said Bruce, only half joking.

"Too bad for you." Peter circled around in front of him. "Because you owe me and it's time to pay up." He met Bruce's eyes seriously. "I want to have a conversation."

Bruce started to answer, but was forced to pause when Peter took his seat in his lap. When Peter laced his fingers behind the back of his neck, he couldn't help but respond in kind, wrapping his arms around Peter's waist. "Okay," he said once they were both situated. He was already anxious but there didn't seem to be any escape; he could see in Peter's face that he had been working up to it. "We can talk about it. What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Peter said immediately.

Bruce licked his lips. "You already know most of it. I was working for General Ross on the Super Soldier Serum project. The test-"

"I already know that part," Peter interrupted.

"I know you know, I just said-" Bruce sighed, sagging into the back of his chair. "I don't know where else to start."

Peter let go of Bruce just long enough to pluck off his glasses and set them down on the desk. "I want to know the rest," he said. "Not where he came from, but what he's like. What it's like for you, living with him. What he's capable of." When Brue made a face, he squirmed. "I know this isn't easy for you, but you're going to have to try, because it's important."

Bruce tried not to be irritated by Peter insistence, but it was almost too easy to react defensively whenever anyone questioned him about his other half; it had been a fairly useful tactic in the past to keep curiosities at bay. "I know, I just honestly don't know what to tell you. It's difficult to put into words."

Peter chewed his lip; he looked as if he, too, were counseling himself through the long-overdue conversation. "You said once or twice before that you can feel him," Peter said. "Did you mean, like, as a physical thing? Or a mental one?"

"Both. Sometimes...it's very physical."

"Where?"

Peter's eyes swept over him in anticipation of an answer, impressing on Bruce at last just how serious he was, and how serious he would have to be himself in return. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before guiding Peter's hands to his chest. "Here," he said, centering Peter's hands over the top of his sternum. "It's like a pressure," he explained. His voice was rough as if with disuse, which was nearly true-he had never spoken about the Hulk to anyone in such a way. "Squeezing the base of my throat-just like any time you get angry, I guess, or when you're trying not to say something you really want to."

Peter traced the hollow of Bruce's throat with two fingers. "Like when you're trying not to cry?" he supposed quietly.

Bruce swallowed-felt Peter's fingertips bob. "I guess so. Yes." He tightened his hands around Peter's and dragged them a little lower. "When it's bad, it spreads, until it feels like there's a fist clenched in my chest. That's when I really know...he's close."

Peter stared at his chest intensely. He moved his fingers in a gentle massage, which grew deeper and more possessive when Bruce didn't stop him. "What about now?" he asked.

Bruce lowered his own hands to Peter's waist again, leaning back. When he closed his eyes, he could feel Peter's touch resonating all through him and then bouncing back like sonar. "Yes," he admitted, hushed and ashamed. "I feel it."

Peter ducked in to give Bruce a kiss; he got the impression that he was being rewarded for his honesty. "What about when you change?" Peter continued. "Is it a gradual thing? Or is it all at once?"

Bruce took another deep breath, but it was already getting easier to talk about. "It can be either. Early on, I thought it was just anger, or stress. The more I tried to control it, the less it worked, and I'd go from fine to...not fine, so fast. Within minutes or seconds, even." He shook his head. "Later, I thought it was heart rate. I think it was so easy to latch onto because it gave me something I could monitor-real, concrete numbers and a surefire warning signal."

Peter smiled slightly. "It was scientific," he said.

Bruce smiled back. "Yes. And I told myself it was working, but it just led to something more dangerous."

When he faltered, Peter resumed his gentle massage. "You mean, the gradual build up," he suggested.

Bruce nodded, distracting himself momentarily with tugging at Peter's belt loops. "To be honest, it reminds me sometimes of when I was young," he said. "When someone would say something that really hurt, or pissed me off, and I'd just...you know, swallow it down. Pretend it didn't bother me."

"Oh, yeah," said Peter, tracing Bruce's collar bones beneath his shirt. "I sure know that feeling."

Bruce was both comforted and dissatisfied with the thought that, given how much they had in common, he and Peter probably shared a similar school experience. "Of course, those feelings just don't go away," he continued with greater confidence. "They build on each other, until it all comes crashing in. I used to tell myself that as long as I could keep my heart rate down, that was enough to make me safe. It only made it harder for me to recognize those building blocks. They'd stack up brick by brick, until one little thing came along to tip it all over. That was when I realized, there was probably nothing I could ever do to keep the Other Guy caged for good. Nothing I tried would hold him because in the end it would always be me, breaking the wall down myself. I considered trying to put myself into a coma. I even considered..."

Peter shivered, but Bruce didn't want to let him dwell on the unspoken confession. Keep talking, a voice inside him said. Just keep talking. He held Peter tighter and did so. "The change itself is usually the same. My heart rate goes up, I start sweating. My vision blurs until it goes dark completely. I'm never really aware of getting any larger, but sometimes I'll feel as if my skin is getting stretched thin." He slipped his thumbs beneath Peter's shirt, just to feel a brush of skin against his own. "Like he grows inside me, until I'm not enough to contain him anymore."

Peter licked his lips; he was still recovering himself after Bruce's ominous words. "What about when you choose to change?" he asked. "You seemed to do it pretty easily, when we were going after Cap."

"That's different," Bruce admitted. "When I let it happen, it's more like...wading out into the ocean, and letting a wave crash over me." He chuckled sheepishly. "And I get metaphorical. It's a very different feeling."

Peter was quiet for a long moment; long enough for Bruce to get nervous again. "What about when you changed in the bedroom?" he finally asked.

Bruce did his best not to squirm. "I don't remember any of that," he said quietly.

"None of it?" Peter's hands stopped as he raised his eyes to Bruce's seriously. "Do you ever remember what you do as Hulk?"

"Not really. Just flashes, sometimes. Sensations." Bruce fought a brief but fierce debate with himself and then asked, "What did happen, Peter?"

"I..." Peter looked down again, and Bruce wasn't sure what to make of his flushed, uneasy expression. "I mean, we were in bed," he began carefully. "Going at it, I guess. And then I looked down and you were him, just like that. I didn't even notice it as it was happening." He swallowed. "We, um. Well. The short version, I suppose, would be that I wrapped my legs around his dick and let him hump me."

Bruce sputtered, his stomach turning. He didn't know whether to be embarrassed, frightened, or...jealous. The conflicting emotions drew his eyebrows together and curled his toes. "Peter, I..."

"If you're about to apologize, don't," said Peter. "Because, and I'm being super honest here, it was pretty awesome." He undid another of Bruce's shirt buttons, almost unconsciously. "He was good to me, Bruce. And if somehow it happened again...I wouldn't fight it." He smirked. "I'd just, you know, try to stay on top this time so I don't get smushed."

Bruce shook his head-he couldn't wrap his head around what Peter was describing-but before he could gather up a proper response, a new thought occurred to him. "Wait," he said. "Again?" He tensed. "Please tell me that's not why you wanted to have this conversation."

Peter's hesitation gave away his guilt, and Bruce shook his head again. "Peter, no."

Peter hooked his fingers over Bruce's shoulders and locked his ankles behind the chair as if anticipating being urged off Bruce's lap. "I want to talk to him," he said with sudden intensity. "We don't have to do it tonight, if you're not ready. But someday-someday soon-I want you to change for me, so I can talk to Hulk."

"Talk to-Peter." Bruce couldn't stop shaking his head. "It's not like you can just sit him down and have a conversation."

"Why not? He's spoken to me before. Maybe just a word here and there, but..." Peter frowned at him, and finally took his head to stop it from panning back and forth. "Did you even know he could talk?"

Bruce gulped; he was starting to feel lightheaded. "No, not really," he said. "I've never given it much thought-I've only ever seen footage, which mostly consisted of..."

"Things getting smashed?" Peter squirmed excitedly. "You've only ever seen him fighting, right? You don't remember him introducing himself to me, carrying me-holding me up when I wasn't ready to stand. You didn't see how he stopped fighting when I asked him to, or...or what happened here." He splayed his fingers wide across Bruce's chest. "How he took care of me. All you've seen is what other people have shown you, and that's Hulk freaking out and breaking things and being pissed. But that's not all he is and I want to show you that."

All at once, Peter clambered off him. Bruce was left cold and a little shaken in the aftermath, staring in shock as Peter began yanking things out of a duffle bag Bruce had only barely noticed when he came in that evening. "It'll be really safe," Peter was saying as he pulled out his camera, then a familiar metal case, then pieces of a tripod. "I've really thought this through. If I set up the camera to track movement, and connect it to the launcher, I'll be able to sedate you with the gas with just a voice command."

Bruce watched him assemble the tripod, his heart in his ears. "Peter?"

"Not that I think it'll come to that anyway. Hulk wouldn't hurt me. As long as I stay clear-headed, it'll be fine." He opened the case, revealing a gas projectile and two syringes. "I even set up a safeword with JARVIS. If I say it, he'll seal the floor and go on high alert. Then if we need to-"

"Peter." Bruce rubbed both hands over his face and leaned forward against his knees. "Please, slow down."

Peter stopped what he was doing and knelt in front of Bruce, taking his hands. "I'm not going to force you," he said. "I'm not going to blackmail you, say we're through if you won't, withhold sex or something." Bruce gave him a doubtful look, but he continued. "If you really don't want to do it, I won't bring it up again until you do. But..." He squeezed Bruce tightly. "But it's important to me, as much as me being safe is important to you. So please, just...let me show you."

Bruce took in a deep breath. He could feel the fist already. Every one of Peter's words was another brick, and he already knew how furious the thing in him would be if he refused. But it was Peter's warm brown eyes, so full of eager hope, that tipped him. "Okay," he said, almost wheezing at first, but then he swallowed back his emotion and repeated, "Okay. But let's..." He stood, pulling Peter with him. "Let's go into the living room."

Peter bound him to his word with a kiss. "It's going to be okay," he said, sounding breathless himself as he gathered up his supplies. "You'll see, Bruce. This is going to work."

In the living room, Bruce pushed the furniture to the walls while Peter set up the tripod and camera. "I wrote a program for the camera," Peter said as he worked. "It knows my face, so if I do have to tell it to fire the gas, it'll know to aim at you." He shrugged. "Of course, I'd probably be right next to you anyway, so worst case scenario, we both take a long nap."

"That's not the worst case scenario," said Bruce.

"It's the worst likely scenario, then." He moved around the room. "And I'm leaving a syringe here, and...here, just in case. That's what worked last time. I'll have my web shooters in case I need to grab one in a hurry." He met Bruce at the center of the room and stole another kiss. "Trust me, Bruce. I wouldn't put you through this if I hadn't considered everything."

"I do trust you," said Bruce. "But could you..." He took Peter's waist, fingering the seams on his shirt. "Will you please wear the suit?"

Peter smirked. "I guess since you're indulging me, it's only fair."

"That's not what I..." Bruce shook his head in embarrassment. "I mean, in case something happens and you need to leap out a window. Or worse." When Peter leaned closer, touching his shoulders, he lowered his eyes. "I'll feel better about all this if you do."

"All right." Peter kissed his forehead. "Let's get ready."

Peter changed into his suit. Bruce watched, making sure that Peter fit fresh cartridges into his web shooters. He still felt light-headed, and sweat was crawling down his back, as if his body was far ahead of him. Only once Peter had finished and rechecked his preparations did Bruce finish unbuttoning his shirt. He tossed it aside, and after some consideration, began taking off his pants as well. His hands were shaking. "JARVIS?" he called into the air. "You're sure you know this signal Peter's talking about?"

"Mr. Parker made me repeat the procedure for him several times, Dr. Banner," JARVIS replied.

Bruce shook his head, taking another moment before deciding to take off his underwear as well-he didn't trust them to hold up, depending on the size Hulk took. As Peter came closer he took a step to the side, blocking the camera's view of him. "I know the camera's tracking us," he said, eyeing it, "but are you also recording everything?"

"Yeah." Peter pointed out the red light on its top. "That's kind of the whole point, isn't it? I want you to see." He smiled suddenly. "Don't worry-it's not connected to the network. No one is going to see it but us."

Bruce released a sigh. "Good. Good..."

"Hey." Peter took Bruce's hands, lifting them between the two of them. "It's like you told me," he said. "Everything Hulk is and does comes from you. So I'm not afraid." His smile was so earnest, it was almost enough to convince Bruce then and there. "I trust you. Both of you."

"I trust you," said Bruce. "I'm not sure I trust him."

"I know." Peter squeezed his hands. "But that's the whole reason we're doing this. Are you ready?"

Bruce closed his eyes. He listened to each beat of his heart crashing up and down his circulatory system like a roaring ocean; it wouldn't take much effort. "I'm ready," he said, and he stepped back, putting as much distance between them as he could while still holding hands. "Are you?"

Peter gave him another short squeeze. "I'm ready."

Bruce breathed slowly, in and out. Goose bumps prickled his arms, and he felt the empty space of the room around them stretch outward, readying for the inevitable rush. He let it come, so that heat and dark broke against him, and his flesh gave way.

Peter knew what he was doing. He told himself that several dozen times in the minute it took Bruce to change.

He had seen Bruce do it before. He had watched limbs stretch and swell, skin darken and bones expand. He had seen his lover change from man to beast and even seen the reverse. Even so, he was still breathless. He clung to Bruce's hands, eyes wide with awe as Hulk rippled to the surface, filling and overflowing his host. His heart skipped and he thought he would never get used to the sight.

Hulk straightened up with a groan. His neck cracked when he rolled his head, and his skin quivered like an animal casting off flies. It only took him a moment to absorb his surroundings, blinking in the low light, before his eyes fell on Peter, and a heavy breath puffed from his nostrils.

Peter gulped. I know what I'm doing, he thought with determination as he looked eight feet of green-clad muscle up and down. He won't hurt me. He licked his lips and dug down deep to find his voice. "Hulk."

Hulk stared at him, and slowly, he lowered himself to his knees. "It's me," Peter said as Hulk dropped his hands to the floor, balancing against his knuckles like a gorilla. "You remember me, right? It's been a while."

Hulk's brow furrowed. His entire face was more animated than Peter remembered, different emotions playing across his flashing eyes and downturned lips. His jaw worked several times before he was able to speak. "Peter."

Peter sighed with relief. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it's me. I'm glad you-"

He took a step closer, but Hulk shied back, his gaze dropping to the ground. Peter halted. "What is it?"

"Sorry," said Hulk, refusing to look at him. "Sorry."

"What?" Peter glanced to the camera behind him-he was already itching to show Bruce his progress. "What for?"

"Hulk..." Hulk squirmed, which was both comedic and unnerving, given his size. At last he lifted his hand, reaching for Peter but then stopping short. His fingers curled and uncurled between them. "Hurt Peter."

Peter set both of his hands on Hulk's and stepped closer anyway. "You won't hurt me. I know you-"

Hulk snorted loudly, and despite himself, Peter flinched. "Hulk hurt Peter," he repeated, and he very carefully nudged the back of his knuckles against Peter's chest. "Breathe. Sorry."

"You're talking about what happened here?" When Hulk tried to pull back, Peter latched onto his hand and kept it close. "Hulk, it's okay. That was a long time ago, and I'm fine. See?" He rubbed the back of Hulk's palm in encouragement. "Have you felt guilty about that all this time?"

Hulk nodded. Of course he would, thought Peter as he slipped past Hulk's hand and moved closer. Bruce still does. "It's okay," he said again, and with his nerves firmly in place he reached up to touch Hulk's jaw. "I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you. Okay?"

Hulk lifted his eyes, watching Peter with a searching expression. "Peter," he mumbled. He drew his hand in close to curl behind Peter's back, but he was careful not to touch him. "Peter."

Peter felt emotion well in his throat. He had planned so carefully what he was going to say, tried to guess at how Hulk would act and speak and answer, but he was already overwhelmed by Hulk bowing in shame before him. He wished he could be a beast himself, just to be big enough to wrap Hulk up in his arms. "Hulk, I..." He swallowed hard and grasped after his convictions. "I wanted to talk to you, to get to know you better. Do you understand?"

"Talk," said Hulk, his face screwing up.

"I guess it's not your forte, huh."

Hulk shook his head. His eyes darted away, distracted, and his cheeks puffed in frustration. Peter started to lean back, worried that he'd offended him or worse, and felt Hulk's clenched fist trembling against his back. Don't freak out, he told himself, casting quick glances at the different syringes around the room. You're fine. "Sorry," he said. "We don't have to talk, if you-"

Hulk growled sharply, his head ducking and shoulders arching. Peter kept very still as he readied to act, but then he realized that Hulk's lips were moving. When he watched more closely he could see the muscles along his throat and jaw constricting, swallowing, trying to work. Hulk's voice rumbled out of him in fits and starts that might have sent Steve reaching for his shield, but Peter waited him out, finally understanding Hulk's pinched brows and gnarled frown for what they meant.

"Shh, it's okay." Peter put both hands to Hulk's mouth to quiet him. "You're trying, aren't you? I understand."

Hulk lowered his head again, and his look of bitter disappointment looked so much like Bruce. Peter licked his lips and tried another tactic. "You know," he said carefully, "I get angry, too. It just bubbles up inside, and sometimes, it's hard to breathe let alone talk. And then when I am able to talk, the wrong thing comes out." He grimaced, rubbing Hulk's jaw. "I've said and done some things I didn't mean to, because I was angry. Is that what it's like, for you?"

Hulk nodded, already looking relieved. Peter decided to push a little more. "There must be a lot going on in there," he said, gently tapping Hulk's forehead. "Too much to get out properly."

"Peter," Hulk murmured, the rest of it spilling from his lips as unintelligible grumblings. When he started to get frustrated again, Peter soothed him quiet.

"I know how that can be," said Peter in a way he hoped was encouraging. "When you know you're doing the wrong thing, but you can't help it, because you don't know what else to do. I bet it scares you sometimes, too."

Hulk squirmed uncomfortably, and Peter wondered suddenly if Hulk ever felt Bruce lodged at the base of his throat. He could almost feel it himself, and it inspired him. "Listen," said Peter, "do you want to know what I do now, whenever I'm really angry or scared, and I need to calm down?" He smiled. "I think about you."

Hulk narrowed his eyes. "Bruce."

That raised a whole new slew of questions, but Peter didn't have time to think about them. "No, you," he said, poking Hulk in the nose. But Hulk was still eyeing him with doubt, so he quickly became serious again. "I mean it. Do you remember the first time we met? When we had to...help the Captain?" He went back to stroking Hulk's cheeks and jaw, hoping it would keep him calm and focused. "You carried me on your back. You were so big, and so strong. I felt safe with you, even if the situation freaked me out. Just like with Hammer." Hulk growled at the name, and Peter tensed. He hurried on before Hulk could reminisce. "You carried me up the elevator shaft, remember? You protected me. When I want to feel a little safer, that's what I think about. Here-let me show you."

Peter kissed Hulk's forehead and then put his foot in the crook of his elbow, using it to help him climb onto his back. Hulk turned, craning his neck to try to watch as Peter settled between his shoulder blades and stuck in place. His eyes were wide and curious. "Peter?"

"Just like this." Peter drew himself in tight against Hulk's spine and had to take a moment for himself; Hulk was broad and sturdy beneath him, heat radiating off his skin, just like he remembered. Even when Hulk's every breath stirred him, he couldn't imagine feeling more stable. He pressed his ear to Hulk's shoulder and listened to the echoes of his heartbeat. He sighed. "Man. You're so big, I must weigh like nothing to you. Can you even feel me back here?"

"Hulk feel," he said, adjusting his posture as if afraid Peter might slide off. "Feel Peter."

Peter almost vibrated with satisfaction. I was right about him. He turned his nose against Hulk's rough skin and breathed him in. He's listening to me. He wants to take care of me just like Bruce. "When I need to feel safe, I pretend I'm right here," he said, wiggling a little to get the point across. "Because I know you'll always protect me." Something clicked inside him, and excitedly he leaned closer to Hulk's ear. "I want you to remember that, if we're out in the middle of a fight. The next time you feel me back here, it means something's wrong and I need you. I need you. Do you understand?"

"Peter need Hulk," said Hulk, huffing.

"Yes-yes, exactly. And what I need is for you to stop, and to take a deep breath, and to listen. To think about what you're doing, what you should be doing, and to remember that I need you." Hulk grumbled with uncertainly, so Peter tried again, simplifying. "When you feel me here," he said slowly, "you stop, and you breathe. Stop, and breathe. And I'll tell you what I need. I know it won't be easy, but you'll try for me, won't you?"

Hulk shifted his weight back and forth and finally settled again. "Stop," he said. "Breathe."

"That's right. Why don't you try it now?"

Hulk fidgeted again, and Peter was starting to worry it wouldn't work, but then he leaned forward on his knuckles and let his head droop. He took in a deep breath, his chest expanding, and Peter smiled as he was rocked. It felt like the entire earth moving beneath his feet. When Hulk exhaled, his body sagged with calm relief, and Peter rewarded him with a kiss to the back of his neck.

"That's good," said Peter. "Just like that. Keep going."

Hulk breathed in and out again, the sound of air rushing past his teeth filling the whole room. Peter supported him by rubbing his back, until it seemed that Hulk had relaxed considerably. "Good, good," Peter said, excited and almost emotional. "It's not so bad, is it? Do you think you can remember this, for next time?"

"Yes," said Hulk, sounding clearer than before. He rotated his shoulders, making Peter chuckle, and then rested back on his heels. "Feel Peter. Stop, breathe. Listen."

"You've got it." Peter crawled higher so he could turn his face against Hulk's neck. "I'm proud of you. Everyone's going to be so proud of you, Hulk. I know you can do this."

Hulk let out a long sigh and nudged Peter with his cheek. "Hulk needs Peter."

Peter shuddered. He immediately understood and believed Hulk's heart-felt words, but at the same time, his stomach twisted with a hot, anxious sensation. Hunched beneath him was probably the most powerful, singular living thing on the planet; it was terrifying to think that so much depended on him. His heart beat faster as he pressed in close to Hulk's skin, thinking back to the Williamsburg Bridge, and watching Hulk and Steve disappear beneath dark water. He thought of Uncle Ben and all the lives his mistakes had endangered and ended, even before he dared to promise Director Fury he could tame the Hulk next time they needed it. Hulk's eyelashes fluttered close to his temple and he felt, with an absurd clarity, how heavy a weight he had accepted by sneaking into Bruce's lab all those nights ago.

Stop. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the rise and fall of Hulk's unfaltering breath. You can't afford to doubt yourself now. You can do this-He can do this. You both have to do this.

"I know," said Peter. He kissed Hulk's cheek and then climbed over his shoulder, dropping to the floor. "And we're going to do it together. The next time the Avengers assemble, I'll be right there with you." He grinned. "And we're gonna kick some ass."

"Smash," said Hulk, grinning widely.

Peter laughed. "Sure, we can smash some ass, too. But in the meantime..." He glanced again to the camera. "Since you're doing so well, maybe we can talk some more." Hulk leaned in, his face attentive and serious, so Peter said, "Let's talk about Bruce."

Hulk scrunched his nose. "Why?"

"Because..." Peter could almost hear Steve's voice in his ears, reminding him to be cautious. "Because he's a part of you," he said slowly. "He told me that he doesn't remember the things you do, but you... Even when he's just Bruce, you're still with him. You remember."

Hulk looked away, disinterested, but Peter pressed on regardless. "Do you know why that is?" he asked. "Why do you remember, but he doesn't?"

Hulk stared past him, and it took him a moment to realize he was focused on the camera. "Puny man," he said.

Peter felt a chill, and he looked behind him, half expecting Bruce to be there. He licked his lips, mind whirling, as he turned back to Hulk. "Is that what you really think of him?" he asked quietly. "Or are you just repeating what Bruce thinks of himself?" When Hulk refocused on him with narrowed eyes, he couldn't help but gulp. "Do you both really see yourselves as being that separate?"

Hulk leaned back, straightening his spine. His hardened expression made him seem even larger. "Hulk is strong," he declared, and he clapped his open palm against his chest, letting the smack of skin echo through the room.

"I know you are," said Peter, tense and trying to hide it. "You're very strong. But Bruce is, too."

Hulk let out a sharp, angry huff. When he clenched his fists Peter could see the veins rising over his biceps. "Puny," he said again, but what followed afterward was wordless growls of disapproval.

"Okay, okay." Peter moved closer and touched Hulk's wrist. "We don't have to talk about that now." Though Hulk was clearly agitated he couldn't bring himself to stop just yet, not on such a sour note. "Let's talk about you," he said, forcing himself to smile. "I've already done a lot of talking, so maybe...is there anything you want to tell me?" He gave the back of Hulk's palm a gentle pat. "You can take your time."

Hulk's brow furrowed with an almost childlike intensity. He was quiet and fidgety for nearly a minute before even trying to form the words, and even then it took him a few tries to get out something intelligible. Finally he shook his head and said, "Hulk's turn."

Peter frowned. "Yeah. It's your turn. So if you-"

"Hulk's turn," he said again, and he turned his hand, pressing carefully but with insistence against Peter's back.

It wasn't until Hulk rubbed Peter's stomach with his thumb that his intentions became clear. His eyes were suddenly bright and intense, and his tongue flicked over his teeth. Peter shuddered as heat flashed through him. He had practically asked for it-he shouldn't have been surprised that Hulk remembered and was interested in reciprocating-but as Hulk loomed over him, his breath heavy in the otherwise silent room, his nerves faltered. Suddenly Hulk didn't look as much like Bruce as he remembered.

"We can't," said Peter, and when Hulk frowned severely, he added, "Not now. I just want to talk, this time."

Hulk grumbled with dissatisfaction. "Hulk's turn," he repeated, his fingers curling possessively around Peter's torso. Even that small hint of his true strength sent Peter's emotions whirling again. "Peter needs Hulk."

"I know-I'm sorry, I-" Peter started to shove at Hulk's thumb, but then he stopped himself. Don't freak out. You're fine. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I've got a better idea," he said. "Let's try something. Will you lie down for me?"

Hulk squinted at him, but when Peter said, "Please," he complied. All the room's furniture gave a rattle as he let go of Peter and rolled onto his back. "That's good," said Peter. He grabbed a cushion off the sofa and slid it under Hulk's head as a pillow. "I just want you to relax for now, okay? I'm going to stay with you."

He climbed up onto Hulk's chest and dug the heels of his hands into his muscles, massaging deeply. Hulk sighed, encouraging him to continue. "That's not so bad, huh?" Peter asked as he worked. He had to put his weight into it to feel as if he was accomplishing anything, but it was satisfying to have Hulk relaxing beneath his hands. "Feels good?"

"Yeah," said Hulk. He even closed his eyes. As Peter fell into a steady rhythm, Hulk lifted his hand again. Peter watched closely, but calmed again when Hulk touched him-gently, almost reverently stroking his back. "Feels good?"

Peter smiled through a surge of emotion. "Yeah," he said. He cleared his throat and then flexed his shoulders, inviting Hulk to continue. "Yeah, it feels good."

Hulk mumbled something wordless and happy. As Peter carried on with his massage, Hulk grew even limper, his muscles easing one by one. His breath grew fuller and deeper. When Peter's arms got tired he settled down against Hulk's chest and just listened for a while, enjoying the steady beat of Hulk's great heart beneath him. Even when Hulk seemed to have fallen asleep, he kept his hand curved protectively over Peter's back, heavy and warm and comforting. Peter didn't know what to think.

"You are still Bruce in there," Peter whispered against the hollow Hulk's throat, just as Hulk finally began to shrink and pale. "Aren't you?"

Bruce woke up on the sofa. He had been covered in a blanket, and Peter was nestled close, leaning against Bruce's side as he fiddled with his laptop. He blinked the room into focus and took deep breaths, letting the disorientation of having come out of an event clear from his mind. Though he still felt sluggish, it didn't seem quite as severe as the last time, back on Fury's Hellicarrier.

He stretched his back with a groan. "Peter?"

Peter flinched, but when he looked to Bruce and found him awake, he grinned. "Hey there, sleepy head."

Bruce looked around the room again. It didn't seem as if anything had been disturbed, and his head didn't hurt enough to indicate he had been sedated, but he was still nervous to ask. "So...how did we do?"

"Everything went perfectly," said Peter. He set his laptop down on the floor so he could turn to face Bruce better. "Hulk and I talked for a while, and then he fell asleep, and reverted back. You've been out for about three hours."

Bruce frowned, rubbing his eyes. "Hulk fell asleep? Just like that?"

"Well, he had some help from me, but yeah. Just like that." Though Peter was still smiling, it wasn't with the same level of exuberance as when they had begun. There was something almost older buried in the affection he was showing Bruce then. "Do you remember anything?"

Bruce started to say that he didn't, but then he felt a flicker deep in his chest, and he closed his eyes, chasing after it. He reminded himself of what it meant to Peter and he dug down, still anxious but suddenly eager. "I remember...weight," he said, his shoulder blades itching with a phantom sensation. And then it came to him. "Stop. Breathe."

Peter straightened with a much more characteristic jolt of excitement. "You remember that?"

"Just those words." Bruce combed his hand back through his hair, somewhat mystified. "What does it mean?"

"I'll show you," said Peter, and he grabbed up the laptop again.

Bruce sat up. They watched the footage together, shoulder to shoulder, both of them tense. It was surreal. Bruce was breathless seeing Hulk on the screen, hearing the distorted version of his own voice rumbling out of him. Whenever Hulk shifted or moved, Bruce felt echoes of it rippling under his skin, connecting them more than he had ever experienced. He was speechless, up until Peter climbed onto Hulk's back and relayed his plan for future episodes.

"That's clever," he said, squeezing Peter's knee as Hulk took slow breaths on screen. "But who knows if he'll remember."

"You remembered," said Peter. "That's already progress." He nodded to himself. "It'll work."

Bruce watched Peter instead for a moment, marveling all over again at the determination in his young lover. But then the video played on, and he began to understand why Peter seemed quieter at his side. By the time the footage ran out Bruce's chest was tight, as if Hulk had pushed just below his surface to be sure he had seen it all. Emotion pulsed through his veins but he thrust it aside to instead focus on Peter, still close and still unusually introverted.

"It wasn't what you expected," Bruce said gently. "Was it?"

Peter closed the laptop and returned it to the floor. "It was and it wasn't, I guess. I was right about a lot of things, wasn't I? You saw for yourself-he was thinking and talking, just like I said."

Bruce nodded, giving Peter's knee another squeeze. "You were right. It's strange, seeing it from the outside like this, but...you were right." He hesitated. "But you're not happy."

"I am happy. This was good-really good." But Peter just wasn't programmed for lying, and he kept trying to look away. Bruce waited for the truth to tumble out of him, like it always did. "It was just, I dunno, weird. Hearing him talk about you as if you're separate people."

"We kind of...are?" said Bruce. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Peter, but I don't know how to explain it any better than him."

"You're not..." Peter stopped himself, fidgeting, and tried again. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Bruce turned on the couch to face Peter more easily. "No. Why would I be? You were right-it was important for us to do this, and it went as smoothly as you said it would."

Peter made a face, his fingers twisting around each other in his lap. "I mean, about what happened between me and Hulk before. Here." He risked a glance at Bruce's face; Bruce was taken aback by how nervous he suddenly looked. "I mean, at the time, it felt like...it was just you, you know?" he said haltingly. "I didn't really think too much about it. It was just a big, green you. But the way Hulk talked about you..." He ducked his head again. "I don't know, he made it sound like you're so different. So separate, and now it's like... I don't want you to feel like I would just do that, with someone not you. It was only because I assumed-"

"Peter." Bruce's head was swirling, but comforting Peter was so much more important, and he set his hand firmly on the back of Peter's neck to steady him. "I don't feel like you were cheating on me," he said bluntly.

Peter sagged beneath his hand. "You were right," Bruce went on. "It was still me, and my body, and...I put you in that position, and I'm sorry." He tugged Peter's closer. "You know the reason it upset me was because I was worried about your safety."

Peter turned, nestling into him. Soon they were stretching out on the sofa together, Bruce lifting up the blanket so Peter could curl up with him beneath it. "Sorry," Peter mumbled, twisting around Bruce and sighing into his chest. "I know how weird this is, it just occurred to me that maybe you felt that way, and I..."

"It's all right." Bruce stroked Peter's back, lightly tracing his spine with curved knuckles. "He and I...have a lot of things to work out, I guess. I'm sorry you're in the middle of that." He glanced to the laptop and replayed the footage in his mind: Peter climbing to safety on his back, Peter touching his face, Peter resting against his chest just like he was then. It was all hiding somewhere deep below his skin. "I only wish I could remember."

Peter was quiet for a moment, and Bruce waited, patiently caressing the lines of his suit, for him to work his thoughts into words. "What if it's not that you can't," he said carefully. "Maybe you just won't."

Bruce frowned at the ceiling. "It's not like I can control what I remember."

"I know, but what I mean, is..." Peter squirmed, squeezing Bruce around the waist. "All this time you've been convinced that whenever you turn into Hulk, bad things happen that you can't control. Maybe you're...blocking it out?" Bruce took a breath, but Peter continued before he could get anything out. "I don't blame you-I don't think I'd want to remember, either. But this time, everything was fine, and you remembered a little bit. Maybe if Hulk had happier memories, they'd be easier for you to hold onto."

Bruce chewed his lip. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"

"Of course it is." Peter's shoulders hitched as he turned his face into Bruce's neck. "Bruce, you're amazing. And it pisses me off to hear anyone talk down on you. Even when...especially when it's you."

Bruce swallowed, and if Peter hadn't been holding him so tightly, he might have tried to wriggle free. Everything had been so much easier before there was someone in his life eager to make a better man out of him, and he couldn't help the impulse to push back. But then he stopped, and he took a breath. "Okay," he said, and then again, just to be sure. "Okay. Let's try this again next week."

Peter pushed up on his elbows, and though his sharp brown eyes were intimidating, Bruce met them with sincerity. "Really?" he asked excitedly. "You're sure?"

"Yeah." Bruce smiled in encouragement. "Maybe we can set up a puzzle or two, to test his cognitive skills. If it keeps going so well, maybe we'll even be able to take brain waves, or a blood test..."

Peter chuckled, absently caressing Bruce's collar bone. "Scientific," he teased.

"No one's ever had the opportunity to study..." Bruce licked his lips. "...to study me when I'm Hulk. I've always been too afraid that someone would use the data for the wrong things. But if it's you...I trust you." He reached down to give Peter's ass a squeeze. "Will you experiment on me, Peter?"

Peter grinned; at last he looked like himself again, and he leaned down for a kiss. "I'd love to experiment on you."

Bruce murmured between their lips. Now you've done it, he thought, shivering as Peter straddled his hips. You said yes. Now you don't have a choice. He took Peter's head in his hands and kissed him long and passionately. You have to keep up with him, Bruce.

Peter all but purred. "I'll even keep the suit on," he teased.

"Mm, yes, please." Though still tired from his transformation, Bruce couldn't resist the temptation; he slid his hands down Peter's chest and tugged at his costume. "But for now, I'd rather get you out of it."

"Then maybe I'll turn the camera back on..."

In the end, their Friday night ended like most of them did. But at the back of his mind Bruce never forgot what he'd agreed to, and neither did the thing huddled at the base of his throat.