In the dim evening light, the guy looked intimidating in his stature. In fact, he was probably only a few inches taller than Bruce, but he deliberately held his head high and wore shirts too small for him to make him seem like a real threat to everyone around him. He had the stereotypical look of a truck driver, including the beefy arms with the left more tanned than the right. His resting face was a scowl and he clearly looked like he had been in enough fights in his life. It was shocking, then, that he was polite when he asked Bruce his price.
There was no need to go somewhere where Bruce could fully take in every detail - in fact, the darker, the better. Bruce had asked for at least proof that payment was on hand before he nodded towards the street behind the row of small stores. They were all shut up for the night, and they would find somewhere where those living above them would not notice what was happening below. Making it quick was Bruce’s best plan.
The guy followed Bruce obediently, as if he was new to this sort of transaction, when in actuality Bruce was the one making it up as he went along. He’d run out of other options two days ago, and how he had lost all sense of pride in the simple matter that he really needed a fucking meal. At least his clothes looked nicer than normal, but then he had deliberately picked out a smart suit to steal from the launderettes.
His hair could definitely do with cutting though, which he realised when the man got impatient and gripped a handful of curls and pushed their lips together. Bruce’s eyes widened in panic as he was forced against the building and he wanted to struggle because god help him if this wasn’t the most intimate and invasive experience since the accident, but he really needed that fifty dollars. So instead he made his best effort for a pleasing sound and let the guy run his hands over his body as he kissed him sloppily.
Within minutes Bruce was on his knees, trying not to look up at the man as he reached for his jeans fly. He gritted his teeth momentarily before pulling down the stranger’s briefs just enough to release his cock and hated the fact that he had never done this with someone he cared for when he had had the chance.
“Oh yeah…” the man mumbled as Bruce wrapped his lips around his cock and he felt hands in his hair, urging him to take more in. He complied, breathing in a heavy musk that was so foreign it made him want to gag more so than the member in his mouth. Smell was now a heavy indicator for him and the guy stank of thousands of other shameful meetings in back alleyways, a woman’s perfume faint in the background indicating he was someone’s sweetheart back home. He tried to block out the fact that he was adding to the circle of misery and just concentrate on getting this guy off and fast. He wrapped his hand around the base for leverage and tried to ignore the crick starting in his neck as he bobbed his head.
Minutes later and Bruce’s jaw was beginning to ache. With a quick glance up, the man looked no more excited than when he had started. So he was lousy at it on top of hating it. The man was getting impatient too, because the hands in his hair gripped even tighter and Bruce found himself being forced to take more and at a faster pass. He nearly gagged and for a moment his view turned a bright hue of green as the member now hit the back of his throat. He wanted to stop but the green was fading and he was too hungry and too exhausted to think of another way out, so he breathed through his nose and moaned as he guy fucked his mouth until he thought his neck might snap. Finally the man was grunting and swearing with heavier breathes, indicating that at least this disgusting experience would be at an end soon enough.
Bruce’s first meal in three whole days was a stranger’s semen and he felt nothing but relief. He swallowed thickly and wiped his mouth with the back of his shirt cuff, now finally noticing how much he was shaking.
“Forty, right?” The man said, zipping himself up as Bruce remained kneeling.
“Fifty,” Bruce replied and was immediately kicked in the gut. He gasped as he curled in on himself and felt four crumpled ten dollar bills hit his face.
He could barely acknowledge what was happening, what with him still seeing the world in green and his mind foggy, but he did know he was somewhere safe. As his nerve-endings started to reboot, he could feel warmth surrounding him and sheltering him from the elements. Bruce could hear someone directly above him speaking softly but with a bass that vibrated through his entire body.
He said the name outloud, and the mighty god looked down at him with a wide, toothy grin. It was then Bruce finally comprehended that he was being carried, bridal-style, by his teammate. The world was bouncing around him and he could see they were nearing the quinjet, the engines already fired up for a quick exit.
It was more than likely they had to leave extremely quickly and they didn’t have time to wait for Bruce to come to his senses and head back on his own. He understood that, but it still didn’t make his current situation any less strange.
Thor was now jogging, as if he had been told to get a move on, and he clutched Bruce a little tighter. Bruce wanted to tell him he was now fully awake so he could run himself, but honestly they were nearly there and it would only delay them.
Besides, he was ashamed to admit just how comfortable he felt.
“Evacuation a success,” Thor said to the others as he jumped into the quinjet just as it was taking off. He placed Bruce down on one of the more cosy chairs and Bruce couldn’t help but groan thankfully. He heard one or two comments around him but he didn’t give a shit enough to actively listen.
“You know, technically you just carried him over a threshold,” Tony noted, eyes on the flight path as he piloted. “Who is taking whose surname?”
Thor chuckled and patted Bruce on the shoulder before standing up.
Bruce opened and closed his eyes a few times and found he had wrapped his arms around himself without realising. He hadn’t been held close - hell, hugged - in a long time. People weren’t shy around him but they all saw him flinch or look uncomfortable if they touched him too much. In actuality, Bruce would love to ask them to stay with him and maybe even give him the contact he needed, but he had spent a long time avoiding making contact in case it caused him to hurt them. He also could not stand the loss he felt when he had to let go, possibly forever, depending on his actions. It was better to avoid people in the first place.
He almost cried out in shock when a careful hand was placed on his shoulder again. Thor sat down next to him and concerned, kind eyes met with Bruce’s.
“You seem lost, my friend.”
Bruce had stiffened up his body, his nerves on fire as he tried to process that warm, comforting hand on his bare shoulder. Without thinking, he put his hand on top of Thor’s, willing it to stay put.
“Sorry,” he muttered, too embarrassed to elaborate further.
“Why are you apologising?” Thor squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and then moved closer so he could wrap his arm around both of them, pulling Bruce towards him. “You fought gallantly today and now you require the companionship of your teammates.”
Bruce could have cried, the warmth and comfort and smells enveloping him. He found himself being hugged so his back rested against Thor’s solid chest, their breathing steady and perfectly in rhythm.
“Somebody’s comfy,” Clint said to both of them. Bruce snapped out of his delighted peacefulness and went to break away but Thor kept him put with the lightest squeeze.
“I don’t suppose we could have some privacy?” Thor asked, and Bruce felt a quick kiss planted on the top of his head. He tried to look anywhere but at Clint. “The doctor is need of tenderness and I am more than willing to assist.”
Clint raised his hands in defeat and left them to it. Bruce wanted to say something, defend himself, possibly tell Thor that he wasn’t his blushing bride, but in all honestly he was willing to let everything slide if he could stay in Thor’s arms for the rest of his damned life.