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Bruce knew a thing or two about keeping a low profile.

It was how he managed to evade Ross for so long – but then, Natasha turned up that one time saying SHIELD knew where he’d been the entire time and Bruce wondered just how good he was at hiding.

Then he went to a “clothing optional” beach while the rest of the team were staying at the resort and saw Darcy Lewis lying topless on her towel by the shore.

Considering they only knew each other professionally, Bruce covered his lower half with his towel, knowing that once she noticed him he’d have to leave.

He liked coming to places like this to make himself feel relaxed. There was something to be said about letting go of everything, including the clothes on one’s back surrounded by strangers.

He came here thinking no-one would know him.

What was his I.Q. supposed to be, again?

Darcy lay with white sunglasses on, her sunhat obstructing most of her face, but she was recognisable to Bruce anyway.

She was a very attractive young woman, and he did have a tendency to stare whenever she was in his vicinity, and this was not something he was proud of.

He hated the idea of being a creepy older man leering at Jane Foster’s assistant.

His eyes only lingered for half a second on her chest when he knew it was in fact her and not some stranger.

Her full, round tits were exactly as he’d imagined, the areolas pale and her skin milky white.

When he looked away, the image burning in his mind forever, Darcy abruptly sat up and lowered her sunglasses, pulling her hat off.

“Sup, Doc?”

It was something out of a comedy that had Bruce groaning inwardly why me, except he knew why – this shit seemed to happen to him all the time.

A few weeks ago Darcy was walking barefoot around the kitchen and Bruce walked in, not expecting to see her shapely legs first thing in the morning.

He stared, before realizing Darcy had caught him noticing her curves – and then he ducked out of the room without another word, like some goofy teenager with zero social skills.

It was embarrassing, but he was forever grateful that the subject never came up when he saw her.

“Didn’t think I’d run into anybody here. I staked this place out weeks ago,” she continued, unperturbed by Bruce’s presence.

“Me, too,” Bruce felt himself say.

Darcy indicated the spot beside her. “You can sit down.”

Bruce was looking anywhere but Darcy, aware that he was blushing, aware that she could probably see his pubic hair that was speckled with grey.

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Darcy asked, sounding genuinely confused. “It’s a nudist beach.”

“I think they prefer the term ‘clothing optional’,” Bruce replied, feeling himself smile a little despite his discomfort. “Makes it sound less crude.”

He saw her shrug out of the corner of his eye.

“I couldn’t sunbathe like I like to at the other beach, so I came here.”

Bruce decided to sit, still covering his crotch.

There was an awkward silence, and Bruce watched the waves, wishing he had timed this better.

He expected there to be some HR issue when they went home in a few days if Darcy saw his boner without asking.

And Tony would never, ever let that down.

“Cheer up, Doc,” Darcy murmured. “It’s just natural.”

Bruce nodded stiffly. “Yeah, well. I feel like this is a bad idea.”

“Again, I don’t see how us both being here has to be an issue,” Darcy countered.

Bruce glanced at her briefly, and she was still topless, no towel covering her.

From this distance he could see her nipples were pebbled, probably from the sea air –

He looked away, ashamed.

“You’re fucking with me,” he muttered.

“A little,” Darcy said.

He looked at her face, and nowhere else. She smirked.

“You scared?”

He was playing with fire, because yeah, he was scared. Scared she’d report him.

Scared she would laugh at his cock, the way his gut was soft like a middle-aged man’s usually was.

Scared she would reject him completely and then tell everyone about this encounter.

“Yeah,” he admitted, and she blinked at him.

“Bruce, I – I like you,” she said.

“You’re just saying that,” he said back, looking toward the water once more. “You don’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“I know how you look at me.”

He froze, feeling sick. She was not the type to dodge things or tread lightly.

“Darcy, this is totally inappropriate.”

She began to laugh and he swivelled his eyes back to her, feeling himself frown like the old grump he knew he was.

“I’m never appropriate, Bruce. Ask anyone. Ask yourself!”

Bruce thought about it. She was always joking, making Jane blush whenever she talked about Thor and his loud, enthusiastic lovemaking she had to endure hearing in Puente Antiguo and London.

She poked Bruce in the ribs one time with a pen when his nose was stuck in a book.

She ruffled his hair occasionally.

“Yeah, okay. You’re not,” he said, and he smiled a little.

Darcy sighed, lowering her sunglasses once more.

“So take off your towel and relax. I’m trying to.”

Bruce bristled. “I thought you seemed pretty relaxed already.”

“Not with my crush around.”

She was joking. She had to be. Bruce rolled his eyes a little, thinking about how the last time he was at one of these beaches he didn’t feel like the Other Guy was anywhere near disturbing the peace.

The Hulk was almost purring at this point, and Bruce wanted to lie down in the sun.

He could either leave and feel tightly wound, or stay and feel loose.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and then fell back onto the sand, towel beneath his bare ass, every inch of him exposed.

His heart was hammering, but he chose to pretend he was alone, and not listening to Darcy’s soft breathing close by.

He listened to the waves breaking, the sea gulls calling to one another overhead.


Minutes went by. He must have dozed off.

He felt someone touch his arm and his eyes flew open.

Darcy leaned over him, her breasts close to his face, her eyes big and blue above him.

“Darcy,” he whispered. “What are you - ?”

“Shh,” she whispered back, and stroked his arm with her little hand, the other touching his face.

She was so close he could smell her, the raw musky scent that probably came from her armpits and other secret places he could not see from this angle.

He was too tense to be aroused. Or if he was aroused, he was somehow holding it together out of fear. He froze up, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do, because he did not want her to stop touching him, not really, and he knew this was dangerous.

Her thumb brushed his bottom lip and he waited, watching her close in and then brush his lips with her own, pressing her naked chest to his.

“Mmph,” he said, eyes still wide open while hers were shut. “Darcy – ”

She drew back, her eyes glazed, before slanting her mouth over his again and pushing her tongue between his lips.

He groaned involuntarily. The feel of her tongue against his was like a lightning rod to his cock, and he knew he was getting hard with each passing stroke.

His hands pushing against her shoulders, they parted.

“Darcy, stop.”

“Why?” she asked, not looking hurt at all. She seemed to have made up her mind.

“I’m old.”

“You’re not that old,” she murmured.

He was old enough to be her father, that he definitely knew. He did not mean to see her age but it popped up on his calendar one morning after Darcy did a mass edit of everyone’s schedules so no one would forget to give her presents.

He shuddered when her hand skimmed his stomach, his cock twitching.

She looked down, noticing the movement with a pleased smile on her face.

“Darcy, it’s still a public beach.”

“I don’t see anyone else here, do you?” she murmured, then her tongue darted out to lick his lip, and he let out a shaky breath.

He got the feeling she could make him come just by doing that if she put her mind to it.

His hands fell to her sides, the soft warmth of her intoxicating.

He turned his head briefly to see that yes, they were alone.

They might not be for long.

He let his guard down too long, because she was kissing his throat, her hot, wet tongue tracing up to his earlobe before sucking on it, her hand on his stomach sinking lower.

His dick throbbed, and soon she grasped his shaft and began stroking him steadily as she kissed his throat again.

Bruce let his fingers trail up to cup her tits, thumbs rubbing her nipples.

Darcy gave a little gasp, speeding up her pumping fist.

Her eyes flew shut. Inspired, Bruce pushed up and rolled them so he lay partway on top of her, her hand never leaving him.

He did not feel like himself. He did not sound like himself, either.

“We’ll have to be quick.”

Darcy’s eyes were mischievous as she glanced up at him and then down to his cock in her hand.

“I would have thought you were almost there already, Bruce.”

He looked down and saw the pre-cum that glistened at his tip and huffed a little, knowing what she said was true, but he didn’t want this to be over so soon.

Not before he could make her come undone.

He kissed her, pulling her off his cock by the wrist, pinning it by her head.

Her little bikini bottoms were the only thing between them, and he could feel she was damp inside them with each rub of his crotch against her.

A moan escaped her, and with his spare hand, Bruce pushed aside the material and pushed two fingers inside.

“Ah,” she gasped, and her eyes were open, pleading. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He moved fast, curling his fingers just so, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She was wet, all for him. She was all his.

Her hips rolled, trying to meet the thrusts of his fingers, before he withdrew them without warning, making her whimper.

“Please, please. I’m so close, please. Bruce, please –”

He moved his hips forward, just enough so the tip of his cock dipped inside, before drawing back out.

She looked angry at him, a crease at her brow as he teased her.

“You asshole,” she hissed, and he could not help loving her saying that.

The second time, he was even shallower with his cock, making her whine a little as he drew back.

He looked up just to check, but there was no one around still.

Darcy tried moving closer, but he held her wrist tighter, warning her.

“Please, Bruce. I want to come. Please? Please. Please.”

He could get used to her begging. Maybe he’d draw this out even longer the next time.

Because he knew deep down that he’d fuck her again.

But for now, he would put her out of her misery.

She whimpered, slippery all around him as he pushed the tip back inside her cunt, just far enough to make her eyes widen a little.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She wriggled her hips, trying to move him closer in, but he paused, and she willed herself to lie still.

He looked down at where the very tip of him disappeared, all red and hot and barely stretched.

She panted a little beneath him, and Bruce couldn’t help smiling, because she looked exquisite in her misery.

He rocked, just barely, and her mouth opened in a round ‘O’ shape, and she clenched.

She kept going, slowly gripping and then loosening, and her hips rolled.

Her whimpering was what undid him, making him barely miss coming inside her, spilling along her flushed folds as he grunted, bottom lip between his teeth.

He knew she would be his downfall as her fingers went to the mess he made on her, swiping some up before tasting it, eyes heavy-lidded.

And then Bruce did what he’d wanted to do for weeks and lay his head on her naked chest, nose nudging one nipple as he fell asleep.