Bruce and Natasha are laying out on the grass, underneath the soft starlight on day three of their 'shack adventures' Romanoff affectionately calls their past few days.
He's loosening up a bit about 'training', even if it's taken a full day to decide that he does not actually know better and her ideas actually do work. She pokes him about it. Topics ranging from hypnosis to Tony's wild lab antics have all been touched today. Their more casual friendship dynamics are visible in the way he trusts her to touch at his hand to try out pressure points, trigger words and a brief wrestle.
Natasha snaps her gum, comfortable with their heads together and their torsos in opposite directions as they analyze the stars. She's charted before but Bruce has some wild theories about why things are so. And it amuses the redhead. He points out a few clusters; Lyra, Cygnus. She entertains him with a smirk. Her knee is up, opposite leg straight. With every hour that goes by the green in his eyes are beginning to dim. Natasha resolves his issue to be stress related- perhaps a mission that left the hulk a bit more drugged than usual. Regardless, Bruce is losing his edge and so Natasha counts that as a win.
He's giddy over sighting some other cluster- she's just subconsciously grinning over the look on his face. Like a child at Christmas.
Bruce rotates his head in her direction, holding a grin and calls her out on the stare she hasn't broken, "What?"
She looks up at the sky to dodge eye contact, "Nothing."
He lifts his head to readjust, "If I'm boring you-."
"You're not boring me."
"Okay," he wants to pry, fidgeting with a button on his top.
Natasha's head rolls back toward his, feeling safe whenever he doesn't look directly at her, "Your eyes are looking better. Back to their brown."
"Boring brown."
It's dark but she can see his expression. The fireflies encompass some of the space of the open field out behind the shack. One might find that romantic but Natasha finds herself swatting, waving her hand to brush them away.
"You're not boring, Bruce."
"Just old?" He moves to look at her, reaching to brush the firefly from above her face.
The redhead scoffs, "You're smart. You're cultured. It's interesting."
"Interesting huh? What does that mean," he tucks his chin, picking at his fingers.
Natasha reached to separate his fingers, trying to cease the pulling he does whenever he's nervous. Romanoff holds her breath and intertwines their fingers to hold his one hand steady. She dare not breathe.
He's staring up at the sky without a word, fully aware of and cooperative to her contact. She feels so kind, her fingers soft, small and gentle while Natasha allows him to hold her hand. He's yet to speak so she scoffs with a reference over his nervous habit;
"You were tearing your fingers apart."
"Oh?"
She doesn't react, fixating on the sky no matter how long he looks at her. They're the closest they've ever been- hand in hand. Going on day three alone with one another and he's chewing on a confession he knows could put a wrench in everything. Could scare her away for good…a feeling he doesn't exactly believe he's able to experience.
His chest is about to explode from the fullness of her kindness when he mumbles, "Why'd you do it? Stick your neck out for me…"
Natasha turns her head to finally look back at him, unable to avoid the glimmer in his stare. She never breaks her expression, comfortable with her hand in his.
"You know why," she mutters softly.
She's so close...this perfect savior, this strong independent woman who cares enough to stay by his side, to take responsibility for his alter ego knowing full well what he can do. This woman who treats him like a human...he clenched his jaw, his pupils dilating just a bit while he eyes her perfect lips;
"Do I?"
She's impossible to read, her eyes falling on his mouth in return with a light huff and a gentle smirk.
"You don't have to be afraid of yourself. Or anything around you- I'm here. I'll always be here."
Bruce carefully separates his hand from hers and brushes her cheek to test a reaction. Natasha doesn't budge from her stoic expression, leaning just enough into his touch to let him know that she is okay with his contact.
"I really want to kiss you," he whispers.
"What's stopping you?"
"The fact that you have a loaded pistol in your holster," he laughs lightly.
She smiles a bit wider, "I won't hurt you."
"I know," he whispers, guiding her a bit closer.
"Do you actually believe that?"
He takes a breath, "I want to."
"That someone cares about you…wants to be there when you mess up…"
"...I'm starting to."
Her chin might be upside down but it works. Laying there on the cool grass. Surrounded by the pesky fireflies Natasha is so over swatting. Her eyes close as they latch onto each other's lower lips amid a passionate kiss that feels overdue.
He guides her cheek as best he can in their awkward position and she reaches a hand for his curls, scrambling for something to hold.
Natasha hums in their kiss, biting back and pulling him closer. He sighs peasently in response, melted over her touch.
His finger brushes her flesh, an eye flicking open mid kiss purely over the bright light shining down from above them. The loudspeaker is the worst part of it all, a loud voice yelling from the aircraft;
"Alright you two! This isn't a honeymoon! You're supposed to be training! Not snoogling!"
Natasha groans over Tony's interruption, the couple gradually sitting upright. She taps her holster with a passing thought to shoot the loudmouth engineer out of the sky.
Bruce scolds with a gentle, "Natasha."
She clenched a fist instead, becoming aware of the fact their entire time is up in that helicopter and shamelessly hovering. She gives Bruce a glance who just rolls his eyes with a soft grin.
Natasha runs a hand through her hair, watching the way he patiently tolerates Tony Stark and the rest of their chaotic team.
Maybe he is ready to return to normal, completely comfortable with Stark's presence and apologizing profusely. She stands, brushing herself off;
"Bruce is ready to return to work as far as I'm concerned."
Toy grips at his arms, the group all standing around in a mini huddle, "Dude! That's amazing news! Feeling less green? Promise never to hide anything from us- me specifically, your best friend in the entire galaxy, ever again?"
Thor chuckles, slapping Banner's back. Clint is sitting on the chopper, lighting a cigarette without a word and a focus on Natasha who shakes her head continuously as he mockingly blows her repeated kiss with batting eyelashes. She's tempted to attack and defend herself against his games. Unimpressed and wishing the mob would have waited just a bit longer before so rudely interrupting.
Steve makes some remark about clearing out, something about an upcoming mission.
Natasha lifts her brows, resting an arm on Banner's shoulder, "Why do you think Doc? Are you ready to return to the field?"
Tony lifts a finger, "If it helps at all? The CEO agreed to give you a more permanent position at Stark Industries. Compete with a hulk room for when you're feeling green."
Bruce shakes his head, comforted by Natasha's closeness. Her smile squashed his fears, a full blown acceptance from the surrounding team who is so quick to forgive and work with his demons. His inner monster who might be finally understood for the first time in forever. He forces a smile, eyes on Natasha's grin and reassuring wink;
"Sure...why not? But we need to discuss these precautions in depth..."
Tony slaps his friend's back with his good arm, "Yeah we do! And then you're going to tell me what the deal is with you and the redhead...I want the gossip."