Hulk holds Clint in his arms for a bit before he realizes the light has gone out of his eyes. Hulk shakes him, just a little. Clint's eyes are open but they're glassy, staring at nothing. Hulk pushes his friends body back into the chair.
Hulk looks at him, trying to figure out what to do. What Banner would do. Which is hard because, as Banner has said over and over, Banner and Hulk don't think the same.
He decides to do something he saw on TV once. Doesn't know if it'll help but it can't hurt. He gets down on his knees in front of Clint and slowly begins to rub his arms. Up and down, up and down. On TV they said it was soothing. Maybe soothing would help Clint wake up.
It doesn't. Hulk frowns. Got to be a way to wake him up. He decides to continue with things the Hulk way. Namely, shaking Clint up and down again, and back and forth.
"Clint!" He rumbles, his voice echoing in the room. "Wake up!" It hurts his own ears.
Finally, from what feels like hours to Hulk, who knows he's never been patient, Clint starts to stir. His good eye, the left one, opens. The bad one barely moves.
As he wakes, the room fills with the fear smell. Hulk hates that smell. It's like sweat and piss mixed together.
"Urgh" Clint moans. He shakes his head, as if to make what he's seeing go away.
Despite that, and despite the fear smell, Hulk's still really hard. Under the fear smell is the heat smell, is the Hulk please mate with me smell and Hulk wants it oh so bad.
After the fear of Clint going away, Hulk finally realizes that Clint is trapped. Hulk knows a lot about trapped. Yet he's left his friend handcuffed against this chair, his hands behind his back, the left arm looking like it's hurt.
Hulk is a horrible friend. Leaving someone he cares about like that. He was too busy being scared that Clint would never wake up, before. He goes to work. The chains at Clint's feet crumble in one mighty hand. He goes behind Clint, who's still moaning and coming to, to rescue his arms.
He grumbles at the blood on Clint's wrists. For a minute he thinks it's the work of Ross and his men. Ross, who would be smashed into mush for doing this to his friend. But no, he realizes. Clint did it to himself. Afraid of being trapped, he fought. Fought with no way out.
Hulk growls. He knows how that feels too. So he pulls at the chains and they too crumble. In front of him Clint's body sags, his head drooping onto his chest. Hulk frowns. That's not right. He must be really hurt.
Hulk catalogs the injuries he's seen so far. Bad right eye, bad left arm, bloody wrists, bloody band-aids wrapped around his chest and a broken nose. Too much blood to know where it all came from. He hates the blood smell almost as much as the fear smell. Hates the look of blood too. Too red, too bright. Hurts his eyes.
Then he goes to face his friend again, getting on his hands and knees. He would think Clint was blacked out again, if he wasn't shivering.
Hulk raises Clint's head up, to look in his eyes. The left eye is wide and fearful. Clint tries to pull away. Hulk needs to see his injuries, so he holds him there. The shaking gets worse.
Maybe he's cold. Looks like he could be cold. Hulk has never really been cold, but he's heard that regular humans really hate it. So he picks Clint up in his arms and holds him tight.
Feeling Clint against him, Hulk realizes it probably wasn't a good idea. He can feel his friend's hardness against his own. Can also smell the wetness between his legs. His stomach is wet too, from the liquid on his dick. He wants to lay Clint down and lick that liquid off. To push him on his stomach and find out how wet and stretched out his hole is.
Hulk's dick twitches at the thought and Clint squirms in his arms. Squirms and shakes and gives off more fear.
"Ugh, let me go" he grunts out. He pushes against Hulk's chest, trying to push him away. Hulk doesn't even move an inch. He tries to raise his leg up, kick Hulk in the crotch, but Hulk just holds him tighter.
Clint's arms are trapped against Hulk's massive chest, but that doesn't stop him from trying to hit Hulk, over and over again. Weak and hard, Cupid can't do much. He shakes his head and continues to hit and hit. "No no no, let me go!" Cupid raises his voice almost in a scream.
The blood from his wrists splatters on Hulk. Most of Clint's blood has dried off, but apparently the wrists are still fresh. And the twisted left arm must be feeling much worse. Hulk's gotta get his friend to calm down.
So he cheats, just a little. Hulk don't know a lot about the 'science' of dynamics, but he knows a few things. Like how omegas in heat are 'supposed' to behave around alphas. He grabs Clint's hair (trying not to hurt) in his left hand, holding him tight with his right arm, and pulls, making him turn his head to the left, to show his neck
Making him bare to an alpha, like he's putting him in his place. To get him to stop resisting. And he does.
In his stomach, Hulk knows it's a terrible thing to do. "Putting you in your place" is usually what bad people say. Something the Bad Man used to say when Banner was little and Hulk didn't physically exist yet. Then "putting you in your place" meant hitting and hitting until Banner or Mom cried and said sorry.
But Hulk also knows that Clint's hurting himself more than anyone. That he needs to calm down. So it's different. He's doing this to help Clint, not to scare him into crying and being sorry.
Clint stays still. Head still turned and breathing heavy.
"That's better" Hulk says, "no more hitting."
The man in his arms bites his lower lip, fighting not to speak. He smells like fear, blood and shame now. Not an improvement.
Hulk lets go of his hair and Clint's head sags against Hulk's stomach. Hulk wraps his other arm around his friend and just holds him there. He tries not to think hard thoughts, nothing about heat smells or how good Clint looks, has always looked.
He sighs, not thinking hard thoughts is...difficult. His balls are so tight that it's getting painful. Hulk knows what would ease that pain. Would make Clint feel better too, at least get him through the heat feelings.
But, Hulk reminds himself, he's bloody. He's bloody and scared. Bloody, scared and doesn't want to mate. That's the most important of all.
It finally hits him, how to make Clint feel better. He should make that nasty blood go away. Hulk's so stupid for not thinking of it sooner. He'd hit himself on his stupid head if his arms weren't full.
Mom used to clean up little Banner, after the Bad Man "put them in their place". After holding him and making him feel safe, that is. She'd clean off his bloody places, bandage them up and then sing him a song. Hulk doesn't sing and has no band-aids. But he can make Clint clean.
Maybe not seeing the blood, having someone to clean him up, would make Clint less afraid?
It makes sense to Hulk. So he gently lays Clint down on the floor, to make sure he can get all the injuries. Clint looks up at him, shivering on the floor.
Hulk winces. If only he had a rug or something to lay him on. Clint is frozen, looking at the ceiling. Slowly he closes his legs. He's shaking worse than ever.
He decides quickly that the chest wound needs treated first. It's the worst by far. The wrappings are dripping red. Hulk leans in and sniffs them. The medicine smells there makes him jerk his face back in disgust. Oh, so that's where Clint used to get his yucky medicine from. That plus whatever Ross and his men used on him made it reek. What was there is gone now. Ripped out of his chest. Like what a different evil man did to Metal Head a long time ago.
If thoughts could kill, Ross and his men would be dead ten times over. They ripped out a part of his friend, just like that. Without thinking of how much it would hurt. About the horrible looking hole they'd leave behind.
With little finesse, Hulk rips the dirty linens off. Clint flinches back but says nothing. The sore is about the size of a regular person's fist. Hulk crouches down in front of him, hands and knees surrounding him, keeping Clint from moving.
He leans in and licks around the edges of the wound with long swipes of his tongue. It tastes coppery but not rotten, which is good. Means it's not infected. He licks a little more and looks down at it again. There's no bright red coming from the sore. Only the dark red/brown of old blood.
Hulk licks the middle of the sore, flattening his tongue to cover as much of it as possible. Little by little it starts to come off. He scrunches his nose at the taste of it. The taste of sickness and pain. But he continues to lick.
A noise from above causes him to still, just a bit. It was a high noise, almost like a whimper. He looks up to see Clint with his good arm thrown across his eyes. His throat hitches like he's having a hard time swallowing.
Hulk grabs his wrist before he can think better of it. He moves away as if scalded but it's too late. Clint shudders under him, the pain of his newer wound acting up again.
Having learned his lesson, Hulk instead grabs Clint'supper arm and pulls it away from his face and above his head, where he holds it. Then he jerks back in surprise, letting his arm go.
Clint looks at him like he's trying to stare into Hulk's skull, Like Clint's there but not there at all. Tears streak across his face. Even his bad eye is dripping.
His friend keeps trying hard to swallow, his chest rising up and down really fast. Hulk wonders if he's choking. Is he having an attack of something? This is the first time he has ever wished he understood the science-y crap Banner likes so much.
"Please," Clint finally whispers. He chokes back a noise and looks away from Hulk. Hulk's kind of relieved, not that he'll admit it. The way Cupid was looking at him earlier was weird...and very wrong somehow.
"Please. At least...at least do it slow, yeah? Can...can you do that? Can you be gentle?" He says to the right side of the room, so quiet that, if Hulk's ears weren't really good, he wouldn't have heard a thing.
Hulk nods, forgetting that Clint isn't looking at him. He lets go of Clint's arm and makes Clint look at him again. He needs to make sure that he's focused on what Hulk is saying, no matter if he doesn't want to see Clint's scary blank look again.
Clint's face is still in his hand. Hulk strokes his cheek, tears gathering on his thumb. He leans in to whisper, "Not gonna hurt you." Then he moves his head up and licks a line straight across Clint's bad eye. A little blood and more tears (not to mention something super yucky that he thinks is pus) gathers on his tongue.
His friend lets out a sigh of relief. "Th...thank you. I..." here Clint takes a big gulp of air, "I just h..hurt. I hurt so much..."
He uses his hand to gently turn Clint's head to the left. He starts to stroke his neck, where some blood's pooled from who knows where. As he's leaning in Hulk whispers, "Hulk's gonna make you feel better," before licking at the blood there too.
"Yes...yes. OK."
Hulk barely lets his tongue meet skin, trying so so hard to be gentle. People rarely ask him to be gentle so he's determined to show that he can. Especially with a friend in pain. Clint shudders with tears but is no longer fighting him. Maybe because Hulk's promised to be careful?
Once the neck's done, he goes to Clint's tiny wrists and those clean much faster. They feel so fragile in his large hand. Cupid looks up at him in confusion. Hulk doesn't understand that, so he ignores it.
The left one is still bleeding, so he holds his tongue there for many seconds, until it finally stops. With a hint of pride, he lets them go. All that's left is Clint's nose. It's all purple and swollen. Someone or something smashed it good.
He's only a few inches from his goal when Clint raises his head up to meet him. He tilts his head, making his lips meet Hulk's. They barely touch. He sucks Hulk's lower lip into his mouth a little bit, licking it.
Hulk doesn't move. Doesn't think he's breathing for a moment until Clint lets his lip go. Clint's hands are in his hair at a moments notice. They play and rub and and tease.
Hulk pulls back just a little but Clint kisses him again and Hulk lets it happen. Hulk's so surprised that he doesn't really understand what's going on. Why Clint's spreading his legs and licking the underside of his tongue.
Finally he pulls away. Because he has to. It's hard, so hard, to pull away from the kissing. It felt so good, so gentle and loving, that he body craves more. He rarely gets touched like this. But they really don't need to be kissing. He needs to be getting Clint clean and to a hospital.
Clint makes a sound of annoyance. "Please," He says, taking Hulk's face in his hands. He strokes Hulk's cheek, like Hulk did to him earlier. Hulk leans into the touch.
"Please just..." He trails off. Then he grabs one of Hulk's large hands and puts it right on his still hard dick. "Just get it over with. Please." He tries to make Hulk take his penis in his hand, to stroke him.
Hulk pulls away quickly and stares at Clint in confusion. "What was that?"
Clint lays back in a huff. He puts his hands above his head and spreads his legs a little further. It's like he's putting on a show. He's trying to tempt Hulk more than he already is.
What is he getting out of that? This entire time he's smelled like fear. He's begged Hulk not to touch him. Now he spreads his legs and offers his body up like this?
"Take me. Take what you want." He says, waving one hand up and down his body.
He gets right up into Clint's face. His mind is churning. What Clint's saying and what he's doing, none of it makes sense.
"Take what I want?" He asks, anger starting to build. He knows what Clint's getting at, at least he thinks he does, but he needs to hear him say it. To hear him say those words.
Clint rolls his good eye. He's breathing hard and the words fall heavily from his lips. "Yeah. Take it. Can't stop you, can I? You promised you'd take it slow. Just didn't know you were a teasin' bastard."
Hulk grabs Clint's chin to make him look Hulk right in the eye. There's barely any personality in those eyes. He doesn't know how to describe it other than that. Clint just looks...dull. Dull and tired.
"What about what you want?"
Clint smiles. It's not a pretty smile. It's all teeth and no happiness.
"Doesn't matter does it?"
And that's just it. Before he can calm himself, there's anger in waves. Hulk wants to destroy the entire fucking building. To make them pay (who they are, exactly he doesn't know). What Clint's saying...Hulk doesn't even want to think the words.
But he does, because the words you don't want to think are the ones that haunt you. The first nasty word that comes to his mind is rape. Followed by an even nastier sentence. Clint thinks Hulk's gonna rape him. That the licking was part of the sex. Thinks that Hulk doesn't care what he wants.
That what he wants doesn't matter.
He slams his fist into the concrete beside Clint's face. The man jumps away, quickly. He's now laying on his side, curling his knees into his chest. His hands are in front of his face. Hulk knows that position well.
Now he's angry and sorry and his stomach feels all wrong. Clint thinks horrible things about him already, no reason to prove him right.
So he practically crawls to his friends side. He grits his teeth, because he's still angry even though he feels awful too. "Not gonna take. Never wanted to take."
Clint looks up at this, like he doesn't believe a word Hulk's said.
He bristles at that, feeling irritated. Clint's the one being confusing here. "Hulk won't mate someone who doesn't want to mate."
The lump on the floor finally begins to unravel, just a bit. Clint's hands are no longer in front of his face, but he's still protecting his body.
"What was...what was the licking for?" He says, sweat sticking his hair to his face.
Hulk snorts and shakes his head. "Hulk wanted to get rid of the blood. Make Clint feel better."
Clint looks at him in disbelief. "Licking...the blood off?" He's still breathing heavy from the scare earlier. "Putting me on my back, hovering over me...all that to...to..." Clint looks around, like he's searching for the right words.
So Hulk helps him out. "To see Clint's wounds. Get rid of scary blood. Make Clint feel better after hurting." Though that worked out so well.
All that effort he put into being gentle with his friend, to licking his sores as soft as possible, and Clint thought he was going to get raped?
A little voice pops up in his head. Not like the Banner voice (which sometimes comes to him during tough stuff, but a woman. Mom. Or what his mind pretends is mom, sometimes, when he's feeling really scared and confused.
Not mom is soothing but a bit disappointed. He's hurt, she says, hurt and scared and in heat. Hormones in his body going crazy, probably all the more crazier since he hasn't done this in years...be gentle with him. Please. He needs it. He needs you.
"To...to make me feel better. Just..." Clint takes a deep breath. Like when he was crying. Oh no, Clint's not gonna cry anymore is he?
"You were trying to take care of me," Clint cries out and buries his head into his arms.
Hulk gathers Clint up into his arms, not saying anything. He tries to be super gentle as he rubs Clint's back (it's what Mom would have done). Clint buries his head into Hulk's chest.
"Hulk's still taking care of you." He says. "Wants to take Clint home. Can Hulk take Clint home?"
There's no answer for a while. Hulk keeps rubbing his back, holding him close. They need to get out soon, to a doctor. But he doesn't want to grab Clint and go. He needs to do what Clint wants.
Finally, there's a whisper into his skin. Clint clears his throat and looks at Hulk. His eyes are dry but there's so much pain that it hurts Hulk almost too much to look at him.
"Yes. Take me home."