Pain. That was how it always started. The feeling of muscles, tendons, and bones snapping back into place like a rubber band pulled tight, and that does not even include the incredible discomfort of vital organs slipping sickeningly into proper alignment. Compared to the sheer incomparable dreaded feeling of reverting back into his more human form, Bruce figured everything else should be negligible. And at one time, it was. It was just, things were different now that the slippery scientist could not just fade back into the crowd. Now all of the effort he had put into hiding was replaced by, well, worry.

1. Ironman

In retrospect it had to be Ironman first. Hulk had to be under constant supervision and just as importantly, the Avengers could not just let Dr. Banner slip quietly back into ambiguity. So it only made sense that every time Hulk shrunk back down into Bruce, the man was either already back in his teammates' custody or they were not far from picking him out of the rubble. And of course Ironman's computer program would be best suited to find the recently de-Hulked doctor. He just never expected that it would be several months after the Chitauri attack that he would be found very much exposed to anyone in the world who cared to look, which thankfully was not anyone really.

Bruce groaned, on his knees with his forehead pressed firmly against the gritty concrete wishing the pain in his mind would stop pounding against his temples. The Hulk was never known for his mercy though and instead of relenting, he roared at the other, struggling hard against the tentative hold Bruce had over his own body.

The naked man trembled. No. This is MY body now. The beast quieted. The Hulk had just had his turn, it was Bruce's now. His turn to do what though? Things were never as simple to the genius as they were for the brute. He let out a deep breath as the exertion from the internal battle finally began to fade. The muscles in his arms complained as he levered his body away from the ground to stand upright on rickety legs. Bare. Rickety. Legs.

Bruce stifled a sigh with his eyes closed. In the back of his mind, the scientist had already known he was as naked as the day he was born but before the knowledge had been second tier to wrestling with the hulk for dominance over his head. Bruce had won but at some point the Hulk had managed to rob the tired doctor of his pants. Not even tatters remained.

Ordinarily, Bruce would not mind quite as much because not long ago, Hulking out meant relocation and there was no need for modesty but now... He had to live with the people who would find him bared to the world. The demigod. The playboy. The American icon. The hotshot Shield agent. The living embodiment of female beauty. It was they that would find him, a scruffy near middle aged scientist, completely bare save the thick layer of fuzz that covered designated sectors of his body. The thought alone was mortifying. But he was Dr. Banner, the unflappable keeper of the Hulk. He had to keep his composer. He went through things like this too often to let them get to him now. He would just have to keep his composure with his head held high.

"Doc!" Bruce hoped his small sharp intake of breath was not noticeable from the distance that still separated himself from the hovering suit of Ironman as the hero approached. "You don't know how good it is to see you." Tony Stark chuckled through the voice filters in his helmet. "I was sure I'd have to chase after an enormous green rage boner for a while there. Talk about angry sex, that shit would be awesome! Anyways, pants for Beauty, 'cause, you know Beast." The billionaire chirped playfully.

Bruce tried to straighten from his slight hunch. His body was still sore but he pushed his shoulders back calmly, hearing more than feeling the painful sounding pop in his back. He nodded to Ironman hoping he looked grateful as he approached the hovering hero hesitantly. "Thanks Ironman."

Repulsors clicked off leaving metal boots to clank obnoxiously on the broken pavement. Ironman's visor remained firmly in place but tremors in the naked man's body assured Bruce that coffee darkened eyes were raking him from head to toe. Plus, the red and gold clad man was approaching slowly in his usual self assured swagger. "Now that is what I call strutting." The rich man muttered in mock appreciation. Bruce reached for the garments his fellow scientist was holding but an armored arm thrust them out of reach. "Hold on just a sec Mr. Snappy Pants. I wanna see this. 'The tiptoeing Dr. Banner finally strut-ting.'"

Ironman began circling the doctor who was trying his hardest not to let his shame affect him. Now there was no doubt the wealthy engineer was examining him. Almost imperceptibly, Bruce could hear quiet commentary drift from hidden speakers. "Mr. Snappy Pants, should've been Mr. No Pants. Whodda thought he'd be more confident when naked? For good reason too." Now once again standing in front of the doctor, Ironman finally held the outfit haplessly bundled in his metallic arms to Bruce.

The curly haired man took the clothes, resisting rolling his eyes at the thinly veiled attempt at riling him up once more. Stark always saw it as a game, his Hulk outs. Surely the man was carefully collecting data about how far his volatile housemate could be pushed before losing his mind to the inquellable anger. Jerking on a pair of slacks, Bruce could hear a quiet lingering sigh from the high tech helmet less than a meter away. Apparently Stark was also collecting data on how likely back to back transformations were. All these games, sure they amused the hell out of the inventor, but they also were a very transparent guise to what the man really wanted.

As it turned out, Anthony Stark did always get what he wanted. He sure got under Bruce's skin. In more ways than soft spoken man would ever admit too.