#ymatog

In every way that mattered, your life had improved immeasurably since you and Bruce had started dating. You already had a friendship, a connection, and you couldn’t believe how easy the two of you just fit. 

It was still early days though - you had your shifts, and when Bruce, or rather the Hulk, wasn’t off saving the world with the other Avengers, he had his research and other interests.You didn’t want to live in each others pockets, but still made the effort to see each other at least three times a week, and spoke on the phone all the other days.

You’d introduced him to your small circle of friends, and none of them realised who he actually was, aside from being a sweet nerd who’d swept you off your feet. It was the one advantage of having two personas, you supposed - it meant that he could maintain privacy when out and about.

In return, Bruce had invited you to come and meet the other Avengers. He’d done that charming thing of coming over all shy, asking you while cleaning his glasses with his shirt, so that he wouldn’t have to look at you and risk rejection.

“I mean, you only have to come if you want to. I don’t want you to be disappointed or overwhelmed, because they can be a handful. Tony will tease me… and flirt with you, Steve’s actually got a filthy potty mouth, Nat can be pretty intimidating, Thor, when he’s here, is loud and Clint… well… he’s got a specific sense of humour.”

You’d reached out and placed your hand on his arm, and he’d put his glasses back on and looked at you, expression unreadable.

“I’d love to meet them, and not because they’re the Avengers, but because they’re your friends and colleagues.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

You’d shifted closer, cupping his face with your hand and brushing your nose against his.

“Certain.”

They’d been everything Bruce had described and more, but you’d won them over, and now had your own Avengers Tower access clearance. Sometimes you and Bruce met up there, especially if he was working late, or had been on a mission. It was also the best space for you to hang out with Hulk. The green giant was actually a massive cuddle bug, and enjoyed lounging in his/Bruce’s room, watching Disney movies with you while eating insane amounts of popcorn and candy. 

At first, Bruce had been reticent about letting you spend time with his other persona, but you’d convinced him that you would be fine. You knew almost from the first moment that you’d met him that you and Hulk would be friends, because he and Bruce were two sides of the same coin - he would never hurt you.

Now, so far in your relationship, it had all been sunshine and roses - well, apart from that night, but considering what it had led to, you couldn’t be too upset - you and Bruce having cute dates, sweet kisses and lots of laughter.  As you got off the subway you hoped that he’d be able to manage something different, and you didn’t mean intimacy. Well, that would be nice, but also, you were content to wait until it felt right for both of you. What you did need today was comfort, because it had been A Day TM (a really shitty day) because even the best relationship could improve what it was like to work in a retail job.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t used to asshole customers - you had to usually deal with one or two every day, but today! It was like they’d all held a meeting and decided to show up at the same time and be meaner and more horrible than normal - asking for complex drinks that made no sense, then telling you that you’d done it wrong, when you’d actually triple checked with them before starting.

Walking up to the front entrance of the tower you fanned your face, trying to disperse the tears that threatened to fall from just thinking about it. You wouldn’t let them bring you down!

Striding into the building, you flashed your access card to the security guard before swiping it at the executive elevator. You were glad that you’d be able to travel straight to Bruce’s floor. He wasn’t expecting you at this time, but one of your colleagues had owed you, so you’d ended your shift a couple of hours early and made your way straight here. Hopefully you’d be able to hang out in his room while he finished up his work for the day. Or maybe you could keep him company in the lab if you signed some kind of NDA.  

You could feel yourself spiralling and you swallowed back a small cry, turning it into a hiccup as the elevator came to a halt and you virtually stumbled out into Bruce’s living room…

… to be met with the sight of Hulk, sitting on the floor, worry beads around his neck, watching Lilo and Stitch.

His face broke into a broad smile when he saw you, and he clambered to his feet as quickly as he could.

“Pretty Girl!” He turned and looked at the clock and then back at you. “Pretty Girl early!”

You bit your lip and nodded. Despite your mood, a small smile played at the edges of your mouth.

“Uh-huh. I just needed to see you… or Bruce.”

Hulk looked at you for a moment, and blinked. “Pretty Girl okay that Hulk here, not Bruce?”

You nodded, his earnestness and innocence threatening to destroy the last of your control. You took a step towards him, followed by a second and then you were throwing yourself into his arms, pressing your face against his chest and letting the tears of frustration flow.

Slowly, Hulk wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed he was a little unsure.

“Pretty Girl sad. Did bad man come back and try hurt you?”

You lifted your head, and sniffed with a little smile. “No. Nothing like that. Just a bad day at work.”

You eased out of his hold so you could drop your purse and take your coat off.

“How Hulk help? Want Hulk smash?”

He was too sweet. It was tempting.

“No. No smashing. Just be you, buddy. Sit back down and I’ll join you - we can finish watching together. I just need some cuddles.”

He let out a light snort and lumbered back over to his pile of cushions, dropping down heavily. You knew that Tony had had this floor reinforced, but you were still astounded when the floor didn’t shake. Once he appeared comfortable you joined him, climbing up into his lap and pressing into his side. He was so warm!

You watched in silence together for 10 minutes or so, both of you letting out the odd bark of laughter at the antics of Lilo and her extraterrestrial friend. You could feel yourself calming down just through this - being here and being cared for, with no expectation, something that previous boyfriends had never given you.

You were glad you had Bruce, and Hulk. Which brought you back to why the latter was here.

“Hey, Big Guy. Any reason you’re out today? Was there a mission, because I know Bruce had a load of scientific stuff to do today.”

You felt his body stiffen under you.

“No mission. No smash. Stark happen.”

You sighed - it stood to reason.

“Did he frighten Bruce again?”

He let out a resigned huff.

“Wanted to know what makes Hulk appear. Now Hulk not want to go back. Hulk come here, home. Watch movies, try to be calm.”

You rose up on your knees and pressed your palm to his cheek, feeling him lean into it gently.

“So you’ve had a bad day too? I’m sorry. What about if I get some more snacks and you pick another movie. How does that sound?”

“Hulk like snacks. Hulk like movies. Hulk love Pretty Girl.”

You dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Love you too, Big Guy.”

You got up, and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for enough snacks to keep Hulk sated. You smiled to yourself as you heard him talking to FRIDAY, picking the next thing you were going to watch. Snacks and drinks obtained you took your place, back on his lap.

The opening credits played and you smiled - the Little Mermaid.

“You know, if you ever have this problem again, ask FRIDAY to call me. I’m more than happy to help cheer you up. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes. Hulk and Pretty Girl best friends.”

You both settled down then to watch Ariel fight for her true love. Hulk kept an arm around you, holding you close, but without squashing you, and every so often you ran your hand up and down his arm or scratched your fingers into his black hair, quietly soothing him.

About 10 minutes from the end, Hulk started to fidget and shift under you. You got up and watched as he slowly shrank, and his skin returned to pink. Bruce looked up at you, slightly chagrined, from the pillow nest on the floor. “Hey.”

You smiled and sat back down next to him, wrapping your arms around one of his and leaning your head on his shoulder. “Hey, yourself. Feeling better?”

“Absolutely.” Bruce leant over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “And you? Sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

“Not your fault. And I’m sure there will be another day with a-hole customers. I’m also certain that Tony won’t frighten Hulk out of you again.”

Bruce chuckled. “You give him more credit than he’s due. Although he might not try it again for a while - the Other Guy smashed up his new Porsche…”

You couldn’t help it - you laughed out loud, cuddling into your boyfriend, and realising that life wasn’t so bad after all.

It had started simply, as these things do. You were working your job at the independent coffee shop, making up flat whites, americanos and skinny mocha-lattes with extra foam and shots of non-sugar syrup. You saw lots of people every day, but after a while you began to recognise your regulars: baldy business suit (macchiato), working mom (hazelnut latte, sometimes with whipped cream), gaggle of college girls (who flip flop between seasonal flavoured hot chocolates, seasonal frappes and double espressos), and construction workers (a mix of americano’s and flat whites).

Then there was him. Not overly tall or broad, but with a riot of curly salt and pepper hair and kind, dark eyes partially hidden by glasses. He always seemed preoccupied, reading a book in the wait line, and then at a table if he chose to have his drink in. You’d peeked at his books several times and having seen they were all to do with physics, math, and computing, you’d concluded he was either a university professor or a scientist.

What made him stand out though was his order. He rarely had coffee, normally opting for a tea. Usually he chose  mint, the green of it almost glowing in the cup, but you’d started noticing a pattern – if he seemed stressed, agitated, he always asked for chamomile. And he nearly always drank this inside, as if he needed the time to decompress and compose himself - to escape whatever was frustrating him. 

The third thing that struck you was that he didn’t seem to have a regular time of day to attend. Sometimes he was outside the doors at opening, sometimes you were politely shoo-ing him out at closing. It made you think that maybe he worked close by and kept odd hours, popping in and out of your little shop whenever he needed a break. It was one of those late night incidents in the middle of summer that you learned his name.

You’d been dutifully cleaning down all the equipment, filling and setting the dishwasher to run overnight, and wiping the tables, watching ‘The Professor’ as you’d dubbed him from the corner of your eye. It had been a chamomile evening, apparently, and scattered in front of him were pieces of paper covered in his spidery scrawl, and two, thick books about some kind of brain draining topic. He’d read a bit, make a note, curse low under his breath, and then read a bit more, sometimes flipping back and forth through the pages. It felt mean to disturb him, but you’d turned the open/close sign 15 mins ago, switched all the lights off out back, and there wasn’t a lot else you could do. Also, your feet hurt and you just wanted to get home.

You walked up to him, coming round the side in hope he would see you, but he still jumped slightly when you greeted him.

“Umm, hi there.”

You almost swore his skin took on a green tinge as he swivelled on his stool, but when you looked again he appeared totally normal. You did need some rest!

“Sorry to disturb you, but we’re, umm, closed now.” 

The Professor blinked at you slowly, as if trying to process what you were saying, before tilting his head to look at the clock on the wall.  He looked down at his watch with furrowed brow, as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Damn! I’m so sorry.” He pulled off his glasses, folding them and putting them in his breast pocket. Turning back to the table, he started to shuffle his papers together, stuffing them and his books into his leather messenger bag.  “You should have told me earlier. I didn’t mean to hold you up. I just, umm, get in the zone sometimes and don’t notice the march of time.”

You smiled back, finding his slightly flustered state endearing. “It’s no problem. It was sort of nice to have someone else in here while I was shutting up.” 

Walking over to the door with him, you  held it open for him to leave. He walked through, took one step along the sidewalk before suddenly stopping, spinning on his heel and looking at you from under his dark lashes, a broad hand pushing through his hair.

“Err, I’m Bruce by the way.”

You grinned. He really was rather cute.

“Nice to meet you, Bruce. See you again sometime.”

He let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, the next time I need a cup of tea, a lemon muffin, and, umm, some of the best scenery in New York.”

You couldn’t hold back your giggle at the cheesiness of his line.

“Smooth, Bruce, smooth…”

He shot you a smile, before turning away and heading off into the warm evening.

Summer made way for autumn, the heat tapering off, the nights creeping in and the leaves doing their annual costume change. You saw Bruce more often than before, striking up a friendship with him due to his frequent visits to the shop. Whenever he spotted you behind the counter, he’d shyly wave hello. It got to the point where he never had to line up any more, just situated himself at his favourite table, spreading out his books and notes, knowing that as soon as you got a moment you’d appear with his tea and a muffin. You’d begun to read his moods, and it wasn’t difficult for you to work out which tea he was in the mood for.

During quiet moments you’d come over and sit with him, either letting him ramble at you about his work  - despite the fact that if you understood one word in three you were doing well - or distracting him from whatever equation was frustrating him by telling him about your day. He’d often stay for a few hours, going through cup after cup of tea, and if he appeared when you were on a closing shift you knew he would be there until you ushered him out of the door.

It was the beginning of November now. Halloween had passed in a flurry of bat shaped cookies and pumpkin spice muffins, although the warm apple cider and pumpkin spice lattes were staying for a while. You smiled at the memory of when you gave Bruce one of the ciders instead of his normal tea. He’d sipped it absent-mindedly, and you’d seen the moment his taste buds had woken up.  His eyes went wide as he smacked his lips together before he threw you a smile that you’d never admit made you go slightly weak at the knees.

There was something between the two of you; some unspoken undercurrent. There were times, especially when it was only the pair of you left in the shop, that you felt yourself a hair's breadth away from reaching out to him, wanting so much to run your fingers through his tousled locks, take his glasses off, sit yourself on his lap and… but he was your customer. You never saw each other in any other setting, so you had to maintain your professionalism, but you itched for more, wondering if you should bite the bullet and ask him out. 

There’s always tomorrow, you thought.

Then, everything changed.

The wind whipped around you, causing swirls of leaves around your feet as you pulled the shop door shut, using the light from the streetlamp to see what you were doing as you locked it.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright getting home on your own?” 

Bruce stood next to you, wrapped up in a chunky scarf over his wool coat, his heavy messenger bag slung across his chest. He was shifting from foot to foot, looking a bit agitated, eyes darting all around as though looking out for any danger that may be lurking. With your back still turned to him, you rolled your eyes, before spinning to look at him, a soft smile now on your face as you pulled on your gloves.

“I’ll be fine, Bruce. I walk this route nearly every day. It’s only three blocks.”

“But there are some weirdos out there.”

“I know that, but I promise to stay in the well-lit areas, and I’ve got my pepper spray.” You pulled your keychain from your pocket, showing the small spray can attached.

“I could walk you home…” 

Your heart did that little ‘pitter-patter’ again at his sweet offer. Your lips turned up further.

“Go home, Bruce. I absolutely promise I’ll be okay. I’m on the mid-shift tomorrow, so see you around lunch time? Maybe I’ll take my break after I bring you your food? Regale you with the boring story of this walk home.”

He looked at you, just letting out a resigned hum at your stubborn independence.

“Okay. I just worry, you know. Pretty girl like you, walking home in the dark.”

While your heart did somersaults, you tried to maintain your cool.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bruce.” 

You could feel him watching you as you walked away down the sidewalk, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he cared so much meant  that he cared.

You kept your promise as you walked home,sticking to the middle of the sidewalk, not too close to the alleys and doorways, and also not too close to the road edge. That was until a man coming in the other direction crashed into you sending you staggering towards the side of a building. You bounced against the hard bricks, winded for a second, and then a hand closed around your wrist, yanking you into the dark alleyway. You let out a screech and pulled back, but the hand held you fast, pulling you further away from the lights and any other pedestrians. You fumbled in your pocket for your keys, your small can of pepper spray, but a firmer tug caused you to stumble, and they fell from your gloved hand onto the ground with a clatter.

“Let me go!” 

The man, tall and filthy, leered at you through missing teeth, running his gaze up and down your body in hunger, despite how much you were covered with your duffle coat. You lashed out with your free arm, and your feet, panic rising within you.

“Do as the lady says…”

A voice from the mouth of the alley stopped both you and your attacker in your trackers, both your heads whipping round.

“Bruce!”

He took a step forward, pulling off his bag and scarf, dropping them to the ground, then started to undo the buttons on his coat.

“Fuck off!” Your assailant yelled at Bruce and followed it up with a gob of spit that landed at Bruce’s feet.

“Come on, man, you don’t want to do this.” There was a strange look on Bruce’s face, like he was resigned to a course of action he didn’t want to take. He shrugged off his coat and lay it over a dumpster, seemingly calm.

Suddenly there was a gun in play, in the hand of the filthy attacker, pointing directly at Bruce. Fear spiked within you.

“No, no, no!”

Your struggles began anew, as you desperately tried to pull him off balance, but he flung you to the side, sending you careening into another dumpster as you fell, your head bouncing harshly off the metal with a dull clang. You slumped to the floor, dizzy and you saw Bruce, through your blurred vision, take a couple of steps towards you.

“Aa-aah. You don’t wanna be a hero. Just go away and you won’t get hurt.”

Bruce smirked, an expression that you’d never witnessed before.

“Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”

He took another step forward.

Everything happened in slow motion.

The gun fired, the shot loud, almost deafening to your ears, the bullet zipping through the air towards Bruce.

Who was no longer Bruce.

As fast as the shot had been fired, Bruce changed - transformed. All at once his skin turned green, and he grew in bulk and size, his shirt shredding itself.

You screamed.

The Hulk snorted, grinned at your attacker and spat out a mangled bullet.

“Just go away. You won’t get hurt.”

Hulk walked forward with a grin, plucking the gun away and squashing it in his giant fist, and your assailant ran away on jelly legs, tripping and bouncing off the walls in his haste. He hadn’t even disappeared fully before the giant, green creature turned his attention to you. He moved forward and in your disorientated and pained state, you tried to back up, unable to actually go anywhere because of the dumpster behind you.

“Please don’t hurt me!”

Hulk’s eyes went wide, and he sat down with a thud, the dumpster behind you juddering. He started to reach out towards you, but you shrank into yourself and he stopped.

“Hulk not hurt Pretty Girl. Pretty Girl Banner’s friend.”

“Banner? What’s going on? Where’s Bruce?”

Hulk tapped the side of his head with a thick finger.

“Bruce in here. He let Hulk out to help.” His face took on a slightly downcast expression. “But he says I have to go back in now.”

He looked thoroughly dejected.

“All anyone want Hulk to do is smash. Hulk would like to make friends too.”

Your fear melted away. You shuffled closer and placed a hand on one of his meaty forearms.

“Thank you for helping me. I can be your friend, if you want?”

His face split into a wild smile. 

“Hulk would like to have Pretty Girl as a friend.”

“Well there you go, Big guy. I’ll organise something with Bruce, okay?”

“Okay!” He raised his free hand again and, more gently than you thought possible, ran the back of his hand over your cheek. “Bye-bye, Pretty Girl.”

He closed his eyes and with a small shudder began to shrink down, the green of his skin receding until it was pale again and Bruce was looking at you. His shirt lay in tatters across his shoulders and he immediately got up to retrieve his coat, shoving his arms into it at speed.

“I… ummm… well… Secret's out now, I guess. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m not sorry I helped you. See you around.”

He picked up his bag and scarf and walked towards the mouth of the alley. You scrabbled to your feet, arm outstretched in front of you.

“Bruce, wait!” He turned, looking at you warily. “There’s something I wanna ask you. And don’t think it’s because of what just happened. Well it sort of is, but only in a ‘you gotta go for what you want before it’s too late’ kinda way, and… shit, I’m rambling.” You clamped your mouth shut and drew in a deep breath through your nose. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.

“I like you, Bruce. In fact, I can’t think straight with you around. You’re sweet and kind, and clever and handsome. And…and… I don’t think it would take much to fall in love with you. And I wondered, if you’d like to maybe… go for a drink tomorrow when I finish my shift?”

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, twisting your hands in the sleeves of your coat, aware that you had just asked him out in a dingy, smelly and downright filthy alley, just after he’d rescued you from goodness knows what kind of a fate, but you couldn’t be sorry about it. Okay, maybe you would be sorry about it if he didn’t say something and…

You didn’t even notice him moving, but suddenly he was there, in front of you, the buttons of his coat almost touching the zipper of yours, the twin ‘huffs’ of air from both your mouths merging together in the coolness of the night. Then his hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks before his lips fell to yours, kissing you sweetly. You fisted his coat, well, as best you could with your woollen gloves on, until you separated from each other, eyes locked and staring. Bruce broke the silence first.

“In case you didn’t realise from that, I like you too. And maybe I’m likely to fall in love with you as well. You’re so smart, so beautiful. And you make an awesome apple cider.”

You giggled, your head falling to lean against his chest.

“Walk me home, Bruce?”

“Of course, Pretty Girl. Whatever you want.”