Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm …. Bruce could hear the rush of air as he breathed in, breathed out, counting his heartbeat which was racing far too fast; anger stirred behind his eyes, pressing out from the inside, threatening to rip open his chest. Nearby explosions rattled the windows of the small room. How had they found them so quickly? They'd left no trail out of Singapore, changing ships twice at small ports, slipping into Vladivostok late in the evening. They'd made their way separately to the supposed safe house. Within minutes of arriving, they were under attack by high-tech weapons. Natasha's ever-present paranoia and Steve's low-tech warning system gave them a head's up to grab their packs and scatter. And none of those thoughts were helping Bruce keep the other guy from going ballistic and giving away their current hiding place, not even two blocks away from the original location. The last thing they needed was a gamma green giant ripping through the wall and rushing headlong into the waiting arms of their pursuers.
"Bruce, you okay?" Steve asked quietly, hunkered down by the fireplace in the old study, hidden from the windows. The room was a good place to get lost; bookshelves ringed most of the walls, along with desks and chairs, piled with more books and magazines, offering cover. The office's owner really should have been on that television show about hoarders that Tony loved to watch.
Natasha shifted slightly, almost unnoticeable, but Bruce caught it and knew she still remembered the time on the Heliocarrier, knew that she still worried about the Hulk's rage. His stress level grew even more. Head down, eyes squeezed shut, he felt Clint's hand when he laid it upon his shoulder, a solid, calming touch. The sound of pursuit – and the random firing to flush them out – was a constant irritation.
"If we lay low, we may be able to wait them out," Steve said. "We can split up and meet at the contact site when they pass on."
Unfazed by the others in the room, Clint squeezed Bruce's shoulder and ran his hand down the arm until he could tangle their fingers together; Bruce didn't miss how Clint grimaced slightly when the grip got too tight for comfort, but the feel of Clint's callouses and the steady hold let him take some control back. Slipping his other hand around Clint's upper arm, he let his fingers make gentle circles on the rock hard bicep, soothing the other guy with the feel of Clint's skin. Steve noticed, but studiously ignored the touching, while Natasha gave Bruce a smile just as a close blast rocked the wall, spilling books off their perches around the room.
"Hulk doesn't like loud noises." He knew his eyes had gone green, and Bruce's muscles strained against his shirt, shaking from trying to hold on. "I … can't … stop it," he gasped between gritted teeth. "Everyone should … get out." There was little time left; the Hulk rose up, filling his skin to bursting, muscling his way out and into action, anger mingled with worry and fear.
Then Clint did what Clint always did; react with his instincts, not stopping to think of the repercussions. He pivoted to face Bruce and kissed him. Hard. Surprised by the unexpected move, Bruce bumped back into the desk, near a stack of magazines that threatened to slide down on both of them. Clint's mouth was like fire on his, burning its way through the haze of anger, providing an outlet for all the rage. It was the equivalent of smacking the Hulk on the head with a hammer and the kiss got his attention. Bruce grabbed onto the lifeline Clint offered and turned his energy to ravishing the open mouth with his tongue, grinding their lips together, desperate to drown in the sensation rather than the rage. Taking hold of Clint's shoulders, Bruce shoved his back to the wall into a small alcove between a series of shelves, hard enough to rattle the books, kiss growing rougher as Clint groaned out loud.
"Quiver," Clint managed to get out, and Bruce gave him room to remove it and toss it to the floor. Then Clint pulled their hips together, rubbing his already hard cock roughly against Bruce through the fabric of their pants, and Bruce lost what little restraint he had. The windows rattled from another blast as Bruce sank into Clint, molding their bodies together, taking what he needed from Clint's lips and mouth, roving over Clint's hard body with his hands. In a heated rush, he sucked on Clint's skin as he tore at his own clothes, tossing off his button-up shirt and yanking at his belt. The feel of Clint, his taste, anchored him and he held on, forcing the anger into passion.
"Cap? Natasha?" Bruce ground out.
"Next room," Clint mumbled, yanking Bruce's hair to tilt his head back, attacking the line of his neck with his mouth. "Didn't want to see the show, I guess." Bruce gasped as Clint bit him hard, rocking his hips into Bruce's; a jolt of pure lust shot up his spine, and he growled in response, hand palming Clint's cock in return. He stroked the sensitive head through the fabric as Clint's guttural moans poured hot against his skin, rolled into his gut and added to the need boiling there. The anger drove him faster, and then the pleasure lulled the rage, a rollercoaster of emotions.
"We don't have …" Bruce began, but stopped as the breath was knocked out of him; Clint took them down to the floor. Bruce's back took the brunt of both of their weights as Clint shoved magazines out of the way dragging his pack within reach, digging in a pocket. He waved the travel size tube.
"First aid kit. Never was a boy scout, but always prepared. Now," with a quick twist, he turned Bruce face down on the floor. "Keep calm, big guy. I've got this."
Bruce felt the cool gel on his back where Clint had shoved up his undershirt. Urgency drove them both, shedding clothes as quickly as possible until Clint was able to slide a finger through the gel and press into Bruce; Bruce pushed back, the rage in him demanding to ridden, invaded and sent over the edge. He felt Clint's heat as he leaned over to whisper in his ear, words that made Bruce's cock pulse.
"The big guy likes it hot and dirty? On his knees, spread open" Clint teased, adding a second finger and brushing against Bruce's prostate. Bruce buried his face in the carpet to muffle the shout that tore out of his throat. "Or is it you, Bruce, that likes to be fucked hard and fast?"
"Now, now, now," Bruce moaned, and Clint laughed low in his throat. In a moment, he was pushing into Bruce, slick and fast, all the way in one smooth thrust, not quite painful, but almost; Bruce felt Clint's cock stretching him, the friction splintering him into pieces, shattering the wall of fury. "More," he growled. And Clint gave him more, picking up the pace until both were sweating with the effort, engulfed in the feel of their bodies slamming together. It was Bruce's undoing when Clint's hand circled and stroked his straining shaft; Bruce came all over the carpet with a long groan of relief. He could feel when Clint came, the warmth washing over him as he struggled to breath, Clint burying his face into Bruce's neck.
"Damn," Clint muttered, shifting back onto his heels, pulling out of Bruce. Raising up and tugging his undershirt off, Bruce cleaned up and tossed it to Clint, dressing quickly. "Hell, that's a big yes to that experiment. Sex can sedate the Big Guy."
Clint grinned as he stood, but Bruce knew that both of them understood how easily things could have gone wrong, how inopportune the moment. That was one of things he loved about Clint; the cocky sense of humor in even the worst of situations. He paused and sank back on his knees, his own thoughts surprising him. He'd actually used the L word. After half-Hulk sex. During an attack. God help him, but it just might be true. And wasn't that unexpected.
"We have to go." Clint slung the quiver onto his back. "This may be the lull in the storm. You going to be okay, Doc?"
Bruce just nodded, still processing the revelation. He pulled himself up on the edge of the desk. Clint kissed him quickly before he checked the windows and headed to the door.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So, you and Clint? In Singapore, I take it?" Steve asked casually. They were waiting in a small corpse of trees near the GPS coordinates for extraction. Natasha had only raised her eyebrows in amusement; Steve had avoided until now the, well, indiscretion, as Bruce was thinking of it. With Clint and Natasha scouting for danger, the two men were alone.
"Umm, yes?" Bruce answered uncertain of the reception.
"That means I win the pool. I get to soak Tony for some cash," Steve smiled. At Bruce's face, he added, "The flirting stage wasn't exactly subtle. Sorry."
"And you're okay with it?"
"We did have sex back then, you know. Look, war makes your feelings clearer. Less complex. When you could die tomorrow, all the worries about what people think don't seem to matter. Romance was rampant in the trenches." He looked straight at Bruce.
"We knew each other before all of this," Bruce admitted.
"Good. Better chance of success. That's my worry, really. What happens to the team if these sorts of relationships go South. But I know better than to deny them. That brings its own set of troubles." His eyes darkened a little.
"It doesn't bother you? That we're ..."
"Gay?" Steve laughed. "I'd be a hypocrite if I said yes, now wouldn't I?"
Bruce simply stared. "You're … Does Tony know?"
"Oh, heck no. And don't tell him. I'm enjoying watching him struggle with it. I'm pretty good at waiting for things. He'll figure it out." A rumble sounded as clouds gathered quickly, a vortex swirling in the sky. "How often is Tony Stark thrown off his game?" A crackle of thunder then light coalesced and a man appeared in the clearing. Even in khakis and a blue golf shirt, there was no disguising Thor. Clint swung down from one of the trees.
"Gotta go folks. Incoming. On jetpacks. Fucking jetpacks. Permission to shoot one down and keep it, Cap?" He fitted an arrow and scanned the sky.
"Denied, Hawkeye. We need to get out of here. I'll get Tony to make you a jetpack."
"I'll hold you to that promise when we get back to the Tower." They crossed to where Thor waiting, Tasha joining them.
"Good to see you all are well," Thor said. "I have come to bring you to safety."
As the storm swelled again, the sound of engines could clearly be heard.
"Where are we going?" Bruce asked.
"To Asgard, my friend. To Asgard!"
Sex, love, and interdimensional travel. Bruce's life sure had changed. As he stepped into the beam, Bruce felt the other guy rumble a child-like joy as they dematerialized.