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Thor was a warrior. He’d fought far more battles than he could count in his 1,500 years of living.
So that meant he had a lot of scars.
Of course, Asgardians healed very well, but their elixirs and healers weren’t unmatched against major injuries. Thor had faded scars from centuries ago that told stories of old.
But his eye? That scar was new, and it was more intense; his first facial scar—at least the first one that was definitely permanent.
Sometimes he’d just look in the mirror and touch it, his fingers memorizing the feeling of it. It wasn’t like his other scars; his own sister had given it to him, so it reminded him of his family. The faults of his father and his unfair treatment of his children. Hela, and, despite her ruthlessness, Thor’s guilt for her demise. Loki and his untimely death. Frigga and how she died protecting the woman Thor had once loved. That scar was a constant reminder of all of it, and it was torture. He often cried about it.
Yet Bruce was there, and so was Hulk. Bruce would hold Thor’s face and kiss the scar, he’d gently rub it with his thumb. He’d tell him what it really meant.
“You’ve been through a lot, Thor,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “And this scar... it symbolizes that. Don’t associate it with your pain and grief and nothing else. It’s a reminder that, despite everything, you’re here. You’re alive. You’ve helped people, you’ve saved countless lives. And that’s worth something.”
Thor’s glossy eyes met Bruce’s, tears collecting. “I’m... really, really glad to be here, Bruce. Especially with you. I just wish... I lost so much in so little time, Bruce.”
“I know, I know...” Bruce touched his forehead to Thor’s. “I know how much it hurts. But I need you to remember that I’m here, okay? I’ll listen. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on. You’re not alone, ever, not anymore. I wish I could take away your pain completely. Though your pain makes you who you are,” he paused to wipe away Thor’s tear with his thumb. “And who you are is the greatest person I’ve ever known and I’ve been lucky enough to love and be loved by. I love you more than you could ever know, Thor.”
“I love you just as much, Bruce,” there was a nearby crack of thunder, shortly followed by the sound of heavy rain. Thor leaned in to kiss him, a long, tender kiss.
After they pulled away, Bruce listened to the rain for a moment. “That you?”
“Mhm,” Thor chuckled softly. “It’s a happy storm.”
Hulk, meanwhile, wasn’t as wordy as Bruce when it came to comfort. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t equally effective.
Hulk was a hugger, and those gigantic arms did their job.
Thor would cry into him, Hulk holding him tight but with care. His hands were too big to run through his hair, but he’d pet his head all the same.
Those nights they’d fall asleep like that, Thor deep in Hulk’s embrace. Whether Bruce or Hulk comforted Thor was entirely dependent on the situation; Bruce was for words of reassurance and some affection, Hulk was for far less words and the maximum affection. Whatever Thor needed, either of them would be there to provide.
****
Hulk was Bruce’s armor, so he had the scars, not Bruce.
Hulk didn’t regard his scars with pain or resentment or really any strong emotion. It was essentially indifference. They were just another part of him. Especially considering how fast he was able to heal.
But Thor? He loved them. He loved feeling each groove and indent on his skin. He could spend hours analyzing them, admiring them—and he did.
The two sat on the end of their bed.
“Why Thor love my scars?”
“Because they’re beautiful, Hulk. You’re beautiful,” Thor replied as he ran his hands along Hulk’s knuckles, which were darker than the rest of his hands from a history of punching.
“Hmm...” Hulk shook his head. “Just saying that.”
“It’s true,” Thor lifted Hulk’s hand and kissed it. “I can prove it to you, if you’d like.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “However you want, love.”
Hulk hummed as he thought. “A kiss?”
“Good choice,” Thor beamed, and leaned up as he moved his hands to Hulk’s shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.
Hulk’s hands moved to his back, holding him in place. Kissing each other wasn’t the easiest given the vast difference in their height, but they’d adapted over time.
There was another time far earlier, shortly following the events of Ragnarok, specifically the day after, on the Statesman. The main focus was tending to the injured and trying to somewhat get things in order. Thor had been busy all day. At this point, Thor and both Bruce and Hulk weren’t exactly dating, but weren’t not-dating... it was complicated.
Hulk was still himself; typically Bruce would be back by then, but Hulk was injured— actually injured. Even Hulk could take a hit against Fenris.
But with Thor being occupied, he hadn’t been able to dedicate time to him. In fact, it was Loki who noticed.
“Well you’re more hurt than usual,” Loki studied his wound.
Hulk only grunted in response. He didn’t want to talk to Loki.
“My brother’s still busy, but I’ll grab Valkyrie and we can see what we can do for you. He’s not neglecting you, I’m sure of it. It’s just hard for him to tend to everyone’s needs.”
Hulk wondered why Loki was being kind to him. The two didn’t exactly have the friendliest history. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Loki nodded and set off, shortly returning with Valkyrie, who gaped at Hulk’s wounds. “Gods, have you just been sitting around like this and you haven’t said anything?”
“Didn’t want to distract.”
She sighed. “Come on, let’s get you to the healers, they can fix you up. I’ll let Thor know.”
“No, no Thor. Don’t tell.”
Loki furrowed his eyebrows. “Why not?”
“Thor busy. He can see me later.”
Valkyrie and Loki shared a concerned look, but didn’t argue any further. They led to him to one of the healers.
“Oh dear, you’ve had this for a day? You should’ve come sooner,” he started by treating the wound.
Hulk winced at the sting.
“He said he didn’t want to distract from the other injured people,” Valkyrie answered for him.
“That’s caring of you,” the healer started to wrap the wound. “Though I don’t think Thor will be too happy to hear it.”
“Don’t tell him,” Hulk shook his head.
“He’ll want to know,” Loki stated.
“It’s true,” Valkyrie agreed.
Thor found Hulk later back in their quarters, which was essentially a studio apartment that the four had to share due to limited space. “Ah, I don’t think I’ve seen you since yesterday, Hulk,” he eyed the wrapped wound. “How are you healing?”
“He only just got fixed up earlier, after Loki and I made him,” Valkyrie said before Hulk can answer, mixing herself a drink in the kitchenette.
Thor frowned. “So you were just sitting around with an open wound?”
“Yes...” Hulk muttered, averting his eyes.
Thor joined Hulk on the couch (which, thankfully, was large enough to support Hulk’s weight and give him enough room), and scooted up next to him. “There’s no shame in being hurt and needing help,” he said gently.
“Not ashamed,” Hulk quickly denied.
“Regardless of the context, I want you to be honest with me, okay?” He rested his hand atop Hulk’s arm. “Can you promise me that?”
Hulk studied Thor’s puppy-dog eyes. “Hmpf. Thor too cute. Not fair.”
“What are you saying?” Thor pretended to be innocent. “I’m big and strong and definitely not trying to coax you into agreeing with me.”
Loki, who was in the kitchenette with Valkyrie, mimicked gagging to her. She snorted.
“Pretty god small. Tiny Avenger.”
“Everything is small to your standards. You see these arms?” Thor flexed. “These are magnificent. Some of the best arms you’ll ever see.”
“Baby arms,” Hulk laughed playfully.
Thor scoffed in fake offense. “Now you’re just being rude.”
They laughed and looked at each other for a moment. Hulk nodded. “Promise.”
“Thank you,” Thor reached up to kiss his cheek.
The Revengers’ quarters included two large beds, and Hulk took one while Thor and Loki shared the other. Valkyrie slept on the couch, which wasn’t half bad with the blankets and pillows on it. The bedrooms were separate from the lounge and kitchenette. Thor had left the bedroom to grab some water, and while pouring himself a glass, heard thumping noises from Hulk’s bedroom. Valkyrie was already out on the couch and snoring, so he made a safe guess that she couldn’t hear him. Thor set down the glass and slowly crept to the door, gently opening it.
“Hulk? Are you alright in here?”
He heard grunting and more shuffling on the bed. Hulk eventually gave in and turned on the light, revealing the wrap on his arm that was ripped and splotched with blood. “Uncomfy.”
Thor frowned and sat on the bed next to him. “Just because it’s a little uncomfortable doesn’t mean you should just rip it off, dear. Can I look at it?”
Hulk reluctantly let Thor study his arm.
“Hmm, a different material wrap might work better. Let me see if I can go grab some. Give me one moment.”
Thor checked some of the storage in the lounge in hopes that he wouldn’t have to leave the quarters, and to his dumb luck, found just what he needed. Luckily, they’d already been keeping some ambrosia in the cooling unit (it was most effective when cold), so he grabbed it as well, then returned to Hulk’s room.
“Okay, stay still while I apply this,” Thor fully unwrapped his arm and started to rub on the ambrosia, which was a gel-like substance, like the Asgardian equivalent of aloe vera.
Hulk anticipated a sting like from the substance used on him earlier, but the ambrosia was soothing. He appreciated the feeling of Thor’s hands as he gently rubbed it in. Thor then carefully rewrapped the wound, with a more sturdy and flexible material than the one from before. “How’s that?”
“Good,” Hulk wiggled his arm, testing the mobility with the new wrap. “Much better. Thank you.”
“Of course, I’m always glad to help. Is that it then? I’m having some water and then I’ll probably go back to sleep.”
Hulk pouted, thinking about his response. “Thor stay...?”
Thor raised his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. “You mean... on the bed? Share it with you?”
“Yes.”
“...Sure, yes,” Thor couldn’t contain his grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, you can go ahead and get comfortable.”
That was the first time Thor and Hulk fell asleep together, happily up against each other.