Korra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thelegendof) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2016-05-09 02:16 am
thelegendof) wrote in bakerstreet2016-05-09 02:16 am
H/C Smut
| hurt/comfort smut; meme Bruised. Beaten. Stabbed. Sapped of energy. Tricked. Mentally played and abused. Perhaps you've even seen your home world destroyed, depending on how Homestuck you are. Any way you slice it, characters go through a lot of crap. There's nothing wrong with wanting to see them get pampered and taken care of when they're ailing. In canon, they may not have someone who can provide them with care when they're injured, support and love when they're sick, and physical intimacy all around. In this post, AU or other scenarios can provide them with a caretaking partner of their very own (or, maybe, someone to take care of, if the reverse is their preference). So, for once, weary traveler, you don't have to carry that weight all by yourself. | |||
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it is AWESOME
He's not the type of guy to mull over the details of that too much, among other things. As far as he's concerned liking Bruce is just liking Bruce, and it kills him a lot more than he lets on that Bruce is hurt because he likes him so much. It's a camarederie thing, maybe; Scott's always been the type to make friends (a habit that evidently didn't change much even when he had prison time) no matter what.
But with that whole making friends deal, he's also the type to be deathly protective of them, and Bruce is no exception.
Scott's never really liked Tony Stark. Besides his owh mentor's general dislike for the Stark name, Scott just doesn't do good with fragile egos of magnificent sizes. Lately Stark hasn't been giving him any more reasons to like him--the whole thing with Captain America side, Bruce having to suffer because the guy's an idiot--and the moment Scott opens the door to his flat and sees how down-trodden Bruce is... well.
"Hey, you know you gotta look up when you greet somebody. Common courtesy and all." Scott's just teasing, but his tone is gentle. He's a relatively patient guy, and gentle as he moves his hand (slowly, in case Bruce wants to stop his touch instead of let it happen) and quietly places it on Bruce's shoulder. "Come on in, okay? I set up Jenga. Got some of those nice songs you like on my iPod too in case you wanted background music--did you know I get paid enough by Hank to buy iPods? It's amazing."
Leading Bruce into his humble flat, Scott offers him a smile. "You're also amazing, for the record."
:D ♥ Scott is so cute I cannot
Within these walls, though, Bruce feels his tension melt away bit by bit. There's no pressure here, no need for him to be brilliant - an expectation that he has of himself just as much as others have for him. Here, he can let himself relax a little. He doesn't have a ton of friends, especially ones that are mostly normal and not superpowered or alien in nature, so he genuinely appreciates Scott's company.
The comments draw a laugh from Bruce's chest and make his smile grow a shade brighter. He disagrees, but he's not going to be a dick and say so out loud, especially not when Scott's apparently gone to some effort to make him feel better. "Careful," he replies, his usual dry sarcasm coming out to cover up how tired he sounds, "You're gonna give me a big head saying stuff like that."
As he moves further into the apartment he finds himself fidgeting, a nervous habit that he's had from childhood and has never been able to kick. He figures it's a physical response to the massive amount of thoughts rushing through his brain. To distract himself he slides onto the couch and examines the tower of Jenga pieces. It was a good choice - get an engineer and a physics nerd into a Jenga match and you have one intense game. Perfect for distraction.
"Sorry for bothering you," he blurts out, knowing it's stupid to apologize when Scott already said it was okay. He still feels bad. "I just - " he cuts himself off, an unhappy sound taking the place of the rest of that sentence, and reaches up to run a hand through his already-messy hair.
let him take care of u bruce bb ♡
Jenga'll have to wait a little bit, because there's a more important tower Scott's gotta build up.
His ingenious response is, "Yeah, justing sounds about right."
Scott doesn't hesitate dropping onto the couch by Bruce's side, careful as always to watch for his personal space. Their knees brush together briefly, but Scott doesn't pull him into a hug immediately as much as he wants to. The tips of his fingers skim the side of Bruce's hand instead--it's certainly no giant sign of affection, but maybe it'll be enough as a subtle form of intimacy.
His head dips, gaze making it so that he's trying to catch a glimpse of his heartbroken friend despite the way Bruce crumples into himself. This is something Scott's witnessed before already, but it doesn't make it less awful. He hates when Bruce is like this--when he's so hurt he wants to disappear. As his hand moves and his fingers move to lock with the other man's, he hopes that'll be enough.
"I'd rather have you here with me than running away from what you feel or locking it all up." His shoulders move, gently nudging Bruce's own. Scott's grip on his free hand is easy enough for Bruce to break out of if he wants to, but wrapped around him enough to let him know he has no intention of letting go otherwise. "That kinda stuff ain't healthy, you know?
"I don't like when you're like this any more than you do, that's for sure. But you don't have to be alone any more."
A small smile. "For what it's worth, if you went and disappeared into some other country like you used to, I'd miss you like crazy. So the selfish part of me is glad you came here instead."
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Still, as much as he likes the friendly intimacy, Bruce is glad that Scott doesn't just launch right into it. Bruce's need to put up boundaries is practically legendary among the Avengers at this point. Having that need respected puts him further at ease, and he relaxes a little further, though the unhappy look on his face remains no matter how hard he tries to smile through it.
Allowing Scott to catch his eyes, Bruce gives a small shrug. He accepts the shoulder nudge and leans into it, keeping the contact. When Scott's fingers intertwine with his own Bruce gives them a small squeeze, a silent plea for them to remain where they are. Though he doesn't vocalize it, it's pretty clear that he wants Scott to keep close to him. The feeling of his body, warm and solid, is grounding, and it helps keep Bruce in the present instead of running off inside his head.
The last comment makes him laugh, his eyes crinkling up a little as his smile finally reaches his eyes. Scott's not being selfish at all - it's Bruce who's only thinking about himself, and he knows it. But he doesn't say that.
"Thanks, Scott," he says, giving the other man's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm just. It's hard to be around someone all the time when you know they aren't capable of feeling the same way about you that you do about them." He hangs his head again, his expression crumbling as thoughts of Tony reappear in his brain. He hates himself for getting so hung up about this, for not being able to move on like the grown man he is.
"This is so stupid," he mumbles, more to himself than to Scott, as though saying it out loud will somehow make the feelings go away. They don't, but it feels good to say them instead of keeping them in his head. As much as he hates sharing his feelings - especially these feelings - he's grateful that Scott is willing to listen.
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Having seen a glimpse of light in Bruce's eyes makes Scott's spirits drop a little at the same time Bruce's head does. He knows what Bruce is talking about, certainly: the day he'd found out his ex-wife didn't love him any more had been a startling one indeed, and the precursor to several awkward meetings where he still had his heart saved only for her. It's a ridiculous thing, heartbreak, but not in any way stupid the way Bruce probably thinks it is. Scott just isn't sure how to say that in a manner that'd make a difference.
So instead, he brushes his thumb over Bruce's knuckles, eyes unwavering as they watch his sad, sad friend.
"It feels stupid, but it really isn't. People go through this kinda stuff all the time and it's not your fault and it's not Mr. Stark's fault and it isn't anybody's fault." The one hand he uses for holding is joined by another, and Scott supposes if he isn't allowed to hold Bruce just yet (while the proximity of their shoulders certainly makes him smile), he'll hug him this way instead. "Your feelings just don't line up right... 's not like anyone can help it."
Scott's expression goes a little sheepish, but he doesn't ever stop smiling at him. "Mr. Stark not feeling the same way doesn't mean you're worth any less, okay? You're smart and you're kind to people who're kind to you, and sometimes you push folks away too much but it only makes it worth so much more when you let someone in." Scott gives another little nudge of his shoulder. "Like when you let me in.
"I mean, part of me kinda wishes I could spend all day tinkering in a lab with you so you'd've fallen for me instead," he admits, implications completely unnoticed in the wake of his honesty, "'cause like, holy shit, man, you're one of the greatest catches the world could ever spit out. Any real genius would never let you go."
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Bruce's shoulders slump more, and he's close to getting lost in the turmoil of his thoughts. Scott's hands are a lifeline, though, pulling him out of it, bringing him up out of the murky depths and back into the light. He manages to look up again, and though his smile has totally disappeared there's still gratitude visible in his expression.
And then Scott goes and says that and it leaves Bruce blinking in confusion, his eyebrows drawing together as his brain tries to figure out what Scott might have meant. It was probably just an off-the-cuff comment, nothing serious, but Bruce's broken heart reaches out and clings to it, like it's the one thing that could possibly save him from himself.
"You really think that?" he asks, and his voice is quieter and more nervous than it's ever been with Scott because how can that be the truth? How could he, Bruce Banner, a depressed monstrous genius who didn't know much if anything about love, possibly be a 'great catch'? He didn't exactly have the greatest self-worth, so hearing something like that from most people would've made him defensive, would've made him think they were lying to him.
But this was Scott. Scott never lied to him. In fact, Bruce was pretty sure the guy couldn't lie even if he tried to - he was honest to a fault. Swallowing, he gave Scott's hand another squeeze, his eyes falling to where their knees were brushing against one another. It would be nice to spend time working with Scott, he thought. Even though their disciplines weren't very close to one another, they got along well, and Scott's banter always kept the mood light. Maybe they could come up with improvements for the Ant-Man suit, some sort of biological addition to assist in communicating with the ants, maybe through pheromones -
Bruce let out a tiny chuckle. He was getting ahead of himself again. Glancing back up, he tries to smile again. "I don't think I'd have to spend all day in a lab to fall for you. You're a great catch too, Scott." His words are innocent, meant to communicate nothing more than how thankful he is to have a friend like Scott.
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Which isn't necessarily new. Bruce does things like this to him sometimes without Scott paying much attention to the implications: calls him nice things, says he's a good guy, or a good dad, or smart, or that he looks good in a suit that he rented once that didn't fit him at all. That's just the kind of person Bruce Banner happens to be.
"Today isn't about me," comes his stubborn (but not any less half-shy) reply. "We'll have Scott Day some other time, but right now it's Bruce Day and you're gonna let me get you to smile one way or another."
He turns Bruce's palm over where both his hands hold it, gaze shifting down briefly as his thumbs trace the lines written in his skin. "I think more than you not being good for someone, things just happen to you at the wrong times." On the meat of Bruce's palm, Scott draws tiny circles, looking at the other man once more as the corner of his mouth quirks up into a comforting smile.
"Like... if you'd met Mr. Stark before he became what he did--maybe in high school, or college--maybe he wouldn't have his head up his ass and his thoughts all circulating around the demons he doesn't wanna let go." One hand withdraws just so Scott can lock the other's fingers with all five of Bruce's, always gentle, always careful, always making sure he doesn't over-step unwritten boundaries. In his mind, he's holding Bruce as tight as he can to keep all the broken bits of him from spilling out.
"If you'd met me in college, maybe I'd have asked you out on a date."
Pieces of some puzzle fit together in Scott's head, vague but not any less powerful. There's heat prickling in the back of his neck, and he's starting to understand why. "Hell, if you'd met me before you had these feelings for Mr. Stark, I'm sure I'd have asked you out on a date.
"There's just something about you, you know? And like, I know you can fend for yourself and everything--you're real smart and real resourceful--but you get the whole protective instinct in me flaring up like crazy every single time. When you get sad like this all I wanna do is make you happy again, and when you're mad I want to help you calm down." Scott chews the corner of his lip around a sheepish grin. "I know for a fact that I'm the wrong guy to hear this kinda stuff from. I mean, Scott Lang, right? Sheesh." He laughs a bit, his gaze finally drifting as he looks down where their hands are joined together. "But I think you need to know, anyway.
"That you're one of the coolest people I know."
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But Scott - he always has this happy-go-lucky sort of attitude, even if he tends to be a little self-deprecating sometimes. It's a refreshing change. Now, sitting together, Bruce feels almost content to just listen to Scott speak and to feel their hands holding each other. It feels like he's got a line to shore, like it doesn't matter how far out to sea he's drifted, just as long as Scott's holding onto him like this.
The more he talks, though, the more Bruce's expression changes from sincere gratitude to something a little shyer, a little more confused. He searches Scott's face for answers, but he doesn't say anything until his friend is finished, curious to hear what he's trying to say. It could be that he's just trying to make Bruce feel better, but pity-comfort isn't exactly Scott's style. No, it seems like what he's saying has another layer of meaning, one that even Scott isn't totally aware of.
When Scott speaks about feeling protective Bruce wants to laugh, but not in a cruel way - more in disbelief than anything else. He's the one who turns into a monster; he doesn't need protection. Scott's the one who risks life and limb every mission, the one with a daughter, a family, the one who has people to take care of, people who would miss him if he were gone. Bruce knows that he has some of that, too, but it's not the same.
The comment about being the 'wrong guy' makes Bruce frown and shake his head a little, his fingers squeezing Scott's in an attempt to communicate just how incorrect that statement is. His final words leave Bruce feeling choked up, and it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts before he can respond in an articulate manner.
"You're not the wrong guy at all," he says, voice quiet yet adamant, determined to make that clear. "You don't know how much it means for me to hear all of that. Especially from you." Scott's the most earnest, honest person he knows. If he says it, it has to be true. He gives Scott's hand another squeeze, his expression faltering as he tries to figure out how best to respond.
"You mean so much to me," he says at last. "You always help me feel better. Even if it sometimes doesn't seem like you do." He smiles again, leaning in to brush their shoulders together affectionately. "And, for what it's worth, I definitely would have gone on a second date with you."
When he says it he doesn't mean to sound quite as earnest as it does, but as soon as the words leave his lips something shifts inside his chest, like a large rock falling away to reveal a hidden tunnel through his heart. He blinks a couple of times, studying Scott's face, and realizes that, despite being a literal genius, he's been incredibly stupid for far too long. His cheeks flush with the realization, and he can't pull his eyes away now that everything is finally beginning to make sense.
THIS IS SO LATE I'M SO SORRY
Like he's seeing him for the first time. Like Scott's some kind of incredible person, matched up all the way to the colour that dusts Bruce's cheeks like a fine layer of linen.
Scott is still Scott, though, despite it all. While the gravity of what's just happened is big in its own right, and he can feel that gravity in the way it has his heart rate rising and his throat closing up in unbridled excitement, he knows that he can't possibly stay quiet about it. As awkward as he is about feelings, as terrible as he is about being smooth in terms of flirtation and courtship, Scott's mouth opens as he asks, "Can this be the first one?"
They're sitting together, holding hands and touching shoulders, and Bruce is looking at him with pink cheeks and warm eyes and Scott's sure his own gaze holds the same warmth. His teeth dig into his lip in the smallest version of nerves, but it's not enough for him to really pull away--not unless Bruce wants him to. His eyes flicker, moving from Bruce's face down to the corner of his jaw and back up, and with a little quirk to his lips, he cants his head to the side a little.
"Would that be okay?"
don't even worry I've been so behind on replies too! ;;
So instead of laughing he just gives a little nod, his lips twitching a little as though they're trying to smile but being held back by his own amazement at the way this situation has turned out. He sees Scott's eyes flicker and it makes his heart pound in his chest, makes him realize anew just how stupid he's been, and he wants to reach out and hug Scott and apologize over and over for not seeing, for not understanding.
How could he be so blind to something so clear? It's not as though Scott's been entirely subtle. Bruce has grown accustomed to the other man's playful, albeit sometimes shy, teasing and flirting. His brain was just so stuck on Tony (stupid, beautiful, idiotic Tony) that he couldn't see the true nature of Scott's actions until now.
"Yeah," he says at last, nodding again and finally managing a true smile. "If that's - as long as that's what you want."
Bruce squeezes Scott's hand again, nervous suddenly, and wonders why he feels so much like a teenager. They're grown men, they should know how to handle this. Yet something about it seems too precious, too important, to simply gloss over the sincere feeling of infatuation that's filling his chest.
And maybe it's that infatuation that makes him lean forward. Maybe it's the pain in his heart suddenly being replaced by awe that makes him tilt his head ever so slightly. Maybe it's his own stupidity that makes him press his lips to Scott's in a kiss that's so gentle and afraid it barely exists.
Whatever the reason, when he pulls away, he feels more at ease than he has in a very long time.
"I hope that was okay," he murmurs, hesitant and shy.
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Scott falls into it, feels his eyes close before he realises that they are, relishes that brief moment of mouth to mouth and tries to remember what life was like before Bruce had kissed him and comes to the conclusion that it doesn't matter. And it's--what's he supposed to say? The moment is tender, feelings pink and new and tasting a little bit like strawberry fizz, and Scott's eyes open again only when he realises Bruce had spoken, and Bruce is so ridiculous sounding as shy as he is, because Scott's already weak to him and this just makes that even more of a fact.
"It was okay," he says, even though that much is obvious. Bruce probably needs that reassurance, shy little thing he is, and Scott's dumbstruck expression turns into a brilliant grin. "It was more than okay. It was--it..."
But just because he's been kissed doesn't mean Scott's suddenly become some brilliant wordsmith. On the contrary, it's probably ruined whatever skills in vocabulary and grammar he might've had prior, because now he's caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to kiss Bruce more, and he's not quite in the habit of making Bruce feel insecure or pushing him to do more than he's comfortable doing. Still, maybe it's okay to cup Bruce's face with one hand, and maybe it's okay to brush his thumb over the light hint of grey on the hair at his temple. Scott is gentle when he does it--tender.
"It was more than okay." And up his other hand goes so he can cup Bruce's face with both of them. Scott's forgotten what it's like to be intimate with another person like this--had lost that the moment he lost Maggie. But he leans in, gently brushes their noses together. Mostly he's trying to get Bruce to smile at him. "It's so good I want more."
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He swallows nervously when Scott reaches up to cup his face, but he doesn't move. There's fear in his chest - is this wrong, somehow? The things he wants are always wrong in the end. Look at Tony - that was a failure from the beginning. Bruce almost feels sorry for him, what with his having to put up with Bruce's awkward attempts at flirting. Scott deserves someone better, someone who's less broken, someone who can take care of him.
But Scott's looking at him and then he's brushing their noses together and he's not forcing it, not pushing it, he actually seems happy. The press of his fingers is calming, and Bruce's smile returns, still shy but a little bolder now. His cheeks flush pink when Scott says he wants more, and something heady and dark fills Bruce's chest, makes him swallow.
What can he possibly say in response to that? He licks his lips, trying to figure out how to communicate again because apparently kissing Scott has stolen all of his words away. His fingers fidget a little against Scott's knee, taking in the texture of his jeans. Is this really happening?
"I'm sorry," he says suddenly, his fallback, the words that are always at the forefront of his mind. "For missing this, for not understanding - " Shame burns in his stomach as he realizes what an idiot he's been and he has to fight the urge to pull away. "God, all that stuff I said about Tony - " How could he have been so blind? And poor Scott just sat there and listened every single time, not trying to take advantage, being the perfect wonderful human being he's always been, and Bruce has just been selfish and self-centered and -
He has to close his eyes for a second, has to take a breath. His mind won't be quiet but Scott's hands are there, reassuring him that everything is okay.