Every once in a while, the need would well up inside of Bruce to the point of unbearable pressure, and he'd find himself knocking lightly on the door to Thor's sleeping quarters at eleven PM or so. It was not in Thor's nature to demand explanations or commitment of any kind - he was a god, and it always seemed to strike him as a given that of course Bruce occasionally desired to worship at the temple of his body. He often seemed borderline amused by the starved, wild-eyed longing with which Bruce would approach him in these late hours - dear human, sweet little human, come in and I will accept your reverence because you need this so badly. It was a triumph for Bruce, when he could inspire a heated look from Thor, those sky-blue eyes burning as they greedily drank in the offered flesh writhing in his bed.
He knocked on Thor's door, and checked his watch. For some reason, it was again shortly after eleven PM. He wasn't sure why he always ended up here around this time, but decided to approach it analytically later. Thor was opening his door, looming over him somehow benevolently. "Good evening, Dr. Banner," he said warmly, his tone a touch teasing as he looked down at him. Bruce was already running hot, his blood pumping eagerly, his big, soft, sad brown eyes a little glassy already. The low rumble of Thor's voice only ignited him further, but he opened his mouth to try and at least feign pleasantries.
"Hello," he managed. "Can I--" but then his words were cut off by Thor's deep, chesty laugh as he reached out with both huge hands and scooped Bruce into his arms, hefting him right off his feet with an alarming ease, cupping his ass and wrapping his legs around his waist. Bruce made a sound in the back of his throat, but his resistance was nonexistent. He even wrapped both arms around Thor's neck, mouthing open and wet at the skin there. His flesh was exquisitely warm, a little rough with his blond stubble. The solid press of their bodies flush against each other from chest to hips reminded him of just how small he was compared to Thor, and a thrill rushed through him. Bruce liked feeling small - feeling big, powerful and furious was terrifying for him. He needed to feel small, soft, submissive, to relax and enjoy sex. Thor understood this, and given that he was accustomed to being worshiped as a god, their needs tied quite nicely together.
What made their arrangement even better was that Thor was fond of Bruce, and vice versa. When they were done, Bruce could lie with his cheek pressed to that barrel chest, and they would talk. His dry humor made Thor laugh, and Bruce was in awe of Thor's seemingly bottomless well of nobility and courage. Now, Thor heaved him up against a wall and kissed him deeply, swirling his tongue into Bruce's mouth with no hesitation, because Bruce's body belonged to him and he expected no resistance. There was none in fact, and Bruce melted gratefully into it, sucking on Thor's tongue and moaning into his mouth. Thor rolled his hips against Bruce's, grinding their stiffening cocks together aggressively, and Bruce let himself whimper a little.
"Please, please," he mumbled, dazed and breathless when Thor broke away, still holding him up with ease. "Please, I need it." He didn't need to voice what "it" was, because Thor understood, and Bruce loved him for it, really. He lowered him carefully, allowing Bruce to sink to his knees before him, fumbling with the simple pajama pants Thor favored, shaky and sick with lust. The other guy was fading into the ether at the back of his mind, his head swam pleasantly like he was drunk, and he curled his fingers around the base of Thor's magnificent cock when it sprang free. It was so beautiful, and he couldn't help rubbing his face against it a little, nuzzling it and inhaling Thor's deep musk. It was so thick he could only barely get his fingers around it, long enough to create a slight bump in his lower belly when he put him on his back and fucked him deep.
He worshiped his god, relaxing the muscles of his throat with a practiced pliancy that pleased Thor, opening up around him with only slightly watering eyes. He slid both hands up his thick, powerful thighs, palm-flat against dense, corded muscle and warm flesh dusted with sparse blond hair. A warm, heavy hand settled in his soft, dark hair, Thor's strong fingers threading through the gray streaks with an immense tenderness. There was nothing shameful in their need, everything gentle and pleasurable and heated. It had been so long for Bruce, he hadn't been touched since the other guy had settled into his blood, perpetually in wait for his next slip of control.
Thor missed Loki, but had come to accept that he could never shape his brother into the man he needed him to be. Bruce was who he needed now, though he had yet to express this in any verbal way. Instead, he rolled his hips and pumped his cock into Bruce's willing throat, its loosened muscles rippling around his shaft until Bruce finally had to draw away, breathless. His lips were swollen, his eyes glazed, and he in his warm brown skin and thick mat of chest hair and small, stocky body were so different from Loki. Even their eyes - Loki's so cruelly intelligent and pale, striking and dangerous, while Bruce's were wide and soft and sad, chocolate brown, his lashes thick and his lids heavy. He always looked a little sleepy, a little shy, when he was relaxed, something that endeared Thor in a bone-deep way.
His mouth had been abused to the point of soreness, but Bruce was already fondling his heavy balls, rolling them in his palm and ducking his head to kiss them as reverently as he had his cock. Thor exhaled through his nose, reaching down to run a finger over Bruce's lips, slipping it into the slick heat of his mouth and gesturing for him to rise. Bruce did so, obediently if a little shakily, and followed Thor to his bed. It was no doubt smaller and less royal than he was used to, but he'd made no complaints. Now, he settled onto his back, gripping Bruce by the waist with both hands and lifting him easily to straddle his thighs. "I would have you ride me," he informed him casually, and Bruce laughed, leaning over for a kiss.
"Point," Bruce conceded, settling atop Thor's waist and grinding a little against the leaking erection pressing into the soft, hot flesh of his inner thigh. "But you still need to get me ready first, big guy."
"Mmm," was Thor's only response, but he sat up to roll Bruce carefully onto his stomach all the same, wasting no time in positioning him with his ass in the air. Bruce huffed a laugh at how completely domineering Thor could be, going pliant and relaxed under his hands and letting him spread his ass open. He was expecting a finger, the coolness of their preferred unscented lube, but instead found himself startled by the rough scrape of stubble against the tender flesh of his ass, the wet lapping of a steady, unashamed tongue against his exposed hole. His chest-deep moan spilled out of him before he knew it was coming, and he rolled his hips into it greedily.
"God, yeah," he mumbled, surprised and a little overwhelmed - Thor was eating him out like he was getting paid for it, licking into him and sucking at his vulnerable hole, not shy in the slightest. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, don't stop." But Thor drew away, running a broad hand up the length of his spine.
"I love how you taste," he informed him casually, rubbing little circles into his back with his fingertips. Bruce smiled, flushing a little and feeling it spread hot up the sides of his neck. Thor rolled over to lie on his back beside him, inviting Bruce back to his previous position. They still hadn't used any lube, but Bruce obeyed instinctively, straddling his hips. Thor wrapped both thick, powerful arms around him and held him close for a moment, allowing Bruce to soak up the warm weight of his huge, dense body. He slid a hand down the length of Bruce's back and with his free hand reached for the small bottle they always kept by Thor's bed. For some reason, he rarely sought Bruce out in his quarters - he would occasionally come to him there, but only to take him back to his own.
Bruce settled with his arms wrapped around Thor's neck, completely trusting and open in a way he had always craved from his brother but had never known with him. It filled something in him, satisfied some deep craving to be adored in such a way, especially coming from such a dear, brilliant, beautiful little human as Bruce. He'd suffered so much, Thor mused regretfully, slipping a slick finger just barely into his hole and nuzzling at his face. Bruce hitched himself up on Thor's lap, opening himself up a little more for his thick, probing fingers. "My Bruce," he said thoughtfully, blue eyes melting into brown as they met. "Sweet, brave Bruce."
Bruce only smiled at him, lifting a hand to touch his face even as he hissed with the delicious stretch of his familiar fingers. "Such a romantic."
"You do this to me," Thor responded, palming the back of Bruce's head and drawing him in for a tender kiss. He could feel Bruce flowering open around him, the slick grip of his inner walls causing his head to swim with a dizzying lust. He cupped Bruce's ass in two enormous hands, spreading him open as his stiff, leaking cock twitched insistently against his belly. Bruce went obligingly, lifting his hips so that Thor could take his cock and position it at his hole. His head tipped back when Thor pushed in, exposing his throat in a beautifully trusting and instinctively submissive gesture, a long, low moan spilling out of him.
"Ah, God," he mumbled, bracing himself up with both hands palm-flat against Thor's thick chest. "Fuck, that's good. Give me a second." Thor was already in about halfway, but he nodded and contented himself with watching Bruce's face. His eyes were clenched shut, his adam's apple working up and down as he swallowed, his chest heaving and a fine sheen of sweat breaking out all over his skin. Finally, he nodded down at him and shifted his hips a little, sinking down onto him further until he was stuffed full of him. The luscious scrape of his cock made Bruce's eyes water, the weighty burn of him stretching him even more around him.
Slowly, Bruce began to rock into him, rolling his hips back and forth so deliberately that Thor nearly whimpered with the blistering pleasure of it, sizzling low along his spine and uncoiling in his belly. With the hands pressing against Thor's chest, Bruce gently flicked at a firm nipple and smiled down at him, grinding his ass against him, his breath hitching every time the head of Thor's cock nudged his prostate. His shyness had melted away, and Thor relished it like the delicious gift it was, gripping his hips and rolling his own into them. They rocked together, breathless and starved, until Thor remembered to slide a hand down between their slick bellies and curled his fingers around Bruce’s stiff cock. Bruce hissed through gritted teeth, jerking his hips into the slick slide of Thor’s palm, eased by the copious leaking of his own precome. He could feel his orgasm uncoiling in his belly, sizzling along his spine until his head snapped back and he made a strangled sound like a dying thing. He spilled all over Thor’s thick fingers, his come spurting out of him in several hard, fast waves of mindless bliss.
Enormously pleased, Thor filled him again and again with brutal thrusts – he’d learned that Bruce adored being fucked hard and deep after he’d come, that the sore ache of it could sometimes even bring this middle-aged man to a second, albeit weaker orgasm. It was not to be tonight, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind as Thor heaved up into him one last time before flooding him with a searing heat. He tended to come a lot, which was expected of a god of fertility, and Bruce loved it. He loved the wetness slicking the insides of his thighs as Thor carefully eased out of him, the heady scent of their mingled musk hanging heavy in the air. Thor laughed breathlessly when Bruce collapsed on top of him, his weight completely inconsequential for the god.
Bruce generally preferred quiet directly after sex, and this suited Thor. Normally, they’d sleep a while, wake and shower, and then lie in bed together talking quietly until some new disaster threatened the world and existence as they knew it. It was disarmingly human a routine into which they’d fallen, and it charmed Thor.
He’s a human, you simpering fool, Loki’s ever-present influence seeped into his mind like a spreading poison. And on top of it, he’s getting old. They don’t live long at all, and this one is already middle-aged by their standards. Soon he’ll die, and you’ll have no one but me again. So enjoy your precious little plaything for now. I am all you will ever really have.
“Thor? What’s wrong?” Bruce's husky, sated voice broke into his thoughts, his contemplation of what Loki would think upon witnessing this tender scene. He stroked a warm hand up his chest and smiled faintly as a light rain broke out across the sky outside, a low and distant rumbling of thunder barely audible. Thor only shook his head, kissing Bruce’s temple.
“Nothing, sleep now,” he said simply, and one of the things he loved most about Bruce was his simple acceptance of others’ boundaries. He supposed it was a result of feeling so violated by his own body so often, but in any case he only nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head on Thor’s chest.
“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” was all he said, as the thunder drew closer. Thor reached out to turn off the bedside light just as a jagged slash of lightning illuminated the sky outside, throwing fleeting shadows across the wearily handsome planes of Bruce’s face in repose, and Thor struggled not to consider the brutally human reality of death.