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Knock knock

Summary:

He knew, vaguely, that Loki had been a friend in fighting against Hela, and they had been sharing meal-times for a few days so he wasn’t… nefarious—at the moment, at least—but it was a novelty that he could stand there calmly at all. He supposed after being stuck as Hulk for years he didn’t have the capacity for this to touch his heart rate. It was just Loki. 

“Bruce,” Loki acknowledged, lowering his head in some gesture that felt too formal for a visit in the middle of the night. 

An awkward beat of silence, where Bruce sorely considered asking what he was doing here; if it wasn’t an emergency, work could wait until morning. 

“I was wondering if I could stay the night.”

Notes:

gotta thank @theofreakingbell on tumblr for instigating Bruce and Loki friendship thoughts, this idea was all your fault and im blaming you

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The knock was almost imperceptible when it came; a silent tap, barely heard through the thick metal door. Bruce thought to ignore it at first—people were bumping into walls by accident all the time—but he hadn’t yet gotten any visitors, and the thought was curious. People weren’t really in the mood to socialise, considering the last few days had lost them their home. 

With nothing to lose, Bruce had slid out of bed, carefully arranging the covers to conserve some of the heat—this ship was always cold —and pressed the panel to open it. He had gotten used to the scary efficiency of technology in space, but knowing they were leagues ahead in advancement than Earth still made him feel like there was magic involved, somehow. When closed, doors of the Statesman seamlessly blended into the walls and floorings, with not a single hint of presence except for the holographic panels to control them which were often not far off. 

He wasn’t a known variable to them, and unfamiliar faces couldn’t be as welcome as Thor made them out to be. The Asgardians were wary of him more than anything, and he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to ask anyone how it all worked. 

The portion of the wall slid down, revealing the doorway from roof to floor, and Bruce blinked, more than a little surprised to see Loki, of all people. He was standing in what must pass for nightwear, with a nondescript grey blanket—the same kind Bruce also had—folded neatly in his hands. 

“Loki,” he stated out of surprise more than greeted. 

He knew, vaguely, that Loki had been a friend in fighting against Hela, and they had been sharing meal-times for a few days so he wasn’t… nefarious—at the moment, at least—but it was a novelty that he could stand there calmly at all. He supposed after being stuck as Hulk for years he didn’t have the capacity for this to touch his heart rate. It was just Loki. 

“Bruce,” Loki acknowledged, lowering his head in some gesture that felt too formal for a visit in the middle of the night. 

An awkward beat of silence, where Bruce sorely considered asking what he was doing here; if it wasn’t an emergency, work could wait until morning. 

“I was wondering if I could stay the night.”

The request sounded more like an admittance of some sort, leaving Bruce shocked. 

“Thor and I had an… argument.” The way he says the word, Bruce doesn’t doubt it worked out any better for him than with any of the brother’s ‘discussions’. Though completely earned doubt, Loki’s advice was frequently shunned by Thor in favour of less sure information others had, and anything Loki questioned of Thor’s choices only seemed to ever have Thor double down on them. With both of them being stubborn as heck, it boiled down to less a battle of wills and more a battle of Thor yelling louder. Of what Bruce had been there to personally witness, at least. 

But Thor knew Loki better than any of them, and even with this somewhat less-awkward-through-time presence no one was really willing to stick their neck out for him. 

“Right,” Bruce said, encouraging him to go on if he would. Though he could guess where this was going: Loki came prepared with a blanket to sleep anywhere but in their shared room, after a clear walk-out. And everyone else is already two to a room. “He… kicked you out?”

As if that were obvious, Loki rolled his eyes. “He’s older.”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the image, even though he knew in practice it ended with Loki looking like a sad, lonely kitten scratching at his door, asking to be let in. That Thor would have to know there was nowhere Loki could go… made it less amusing. It made him angry, that his friend would do something like that, and he took a moment to deepen his breathing. This was not the time for his blood pressure to start going up. 

“Don’t make fun of me,” Loki started. That was a thing he did, Bruce had noticed; he was transparent about what he believed others thought of him—often to opinions of his own detriment, but occasionally, like now, he wouldn’t be right.

“Oh I—I wasn’t,” Bruce throws his hands up in a reassuring gesture, also stepping aside to let Loki in. “It’s just from looking at you two I would’ve assumed you’re the one more likely to… issue impractical conditions after a fight.”

Loki scoffed. “If only.”

Then he walked through the door, entering Bruce’s room. Which Bruce had allowed, but it was only catching up with him now, seeing Loki standing there in his room, his bed still half unmade and the glass of water he kept on the side half-drunk. 

What was he thinking giving him permission to enter?

It was Loki.

It was Loki, and he clearly needed to be here or he wouldn’t be because his pride wouldn’t allow it otherwise, Bruce is reasonably sure of that. The guy cared for appearances—something Tony had picked up on years ago.

Silver lining: Loki was very unlikely to harm him when he was asking for a favour. 

“Thank you,” Loki said, sounding surprisingly sincere. 

Bruce considered the relationship he’d witnessed between the brothers over the past few days. There was an air of things always being like this, and Bruce had no way of confirming either side of the bias without consulting Thor and Loki, who were the sources of it to begin with; in Thor’s opinion Loki was untrustworthy but had once been someone who looked up to him, and Loki seemed to think Thor has never done more than tolerate and look down on him. 

Neither denied they were brothers and the topic of love and hate were studiously avoided, with 2012 not even making a blip in their arguments. Thor mourning for a then-thought-dead brother is always a sensitive recurring fact, and both brothers seemed to hurt each other without realizing it or acknowledging the other side of the coin. 

He tried to reconcile that with the Loki in front of him who had begun to settle down on the floor, blanket and all. 

His shoulders were held stiff, but he tried to lay everything out in a dignified manner. It was such a bizarre image for Loki to be on his knees fluffing a pillow that Bruce almost did not realize he was being spoken to. 

“What is it?” Loki asked, tone wary rather than snapping like he would have expected. 

“Ah,” well, for one, I don’t have another mattress and you’re ready to sprawl on the metal flooring. “N-nothing. Really.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him but turned back to the bedding, draping the blanket over his shoulders and promptly rolling into the established corner of sleep. 

Bruce… walked back to his own bed, slipping in. There was very little warmth—if any—that lasted, and he wondered how long it would take to heat up a bit. Could he manage to rest knowing Loki was in the very same room? He wondered if it was colder on the floor. Did Loki snore? Bruce hoped not. He was not a light sleeper but it would be difficult to concentrate on sleeping after Loki then. 

Bruce tucked his hands between his knees flat as he could, as he curled up slightly more and waited to warm. 

It did, in a few minutes, but Bruce found himself trying too hard to pay attention to any single noise in the room behind the thrum of the engine. A rustling sound of cloth reached him and he assumed Loki was just as restless, unwilling to sleep with a threat like Hulk in the room. It made sense, considering Bruce had wondered about Loki—he didn’t want to Hulk out so soon again—when he would trump the guy in anything physical without question. 

A risk Loki had surely considered before knocking on Bruce’s door. 

What else could he have taken into account, and why his room instead of another? 

“I won’t bite if you want to get off the floor,” Bruce told the room. “The beds here clearly aren’t singles anyway.”

The thought that maybe Loki was counting on sympathy crossed his mind but he turned it aside in favour of there not being much proximity to Bruce could offer beside the Hulk—which no one could be fond of. 

When there’s no unvaried response Bruce tried again, sighing that maybe Loki didn’t understand what he had said. 

“You can come up here, it’ll be warmer.”

Loki sighed loudly—performatively. “You have already allowed me asylum, please do not mock me.”

He could already picture Tony’s reaction, calling the guy a piece of work.

“I’m not ‘mocking’ you, it’s probably cold down there, the ship’s terrible at the whole thermoregulation cycle thing.”

It had surprised Bruce for some reason when Thor had known a bunch of Earth scientific terms, even though the guy was allegedly over a millennia old and had dated the most renowned astrophysicist of their time. He wasn’t sure how much Loki knew, but if it was just as much it wouldn’t surprise him really. 

“I’m a frost giant,” Loki said, as if explaining to a child. Then to no reaction, “I don’t get cold.”

Ah, right. Well that just made Bruce feel like a jerk. Even though he hadn’t known… that much. Frost giant must be a type of Asgardian, since he only referred to himself and Bruce knew for a fact that Thor got cold. He blamed the brothers for not mentioning that part before—everyone knew to avoid the direct subject of Loki’s adoption. 

He changed tactics, getting invested in Loki moving to the bed; since sleep availed himself, and he's feeling… guilty, he may as well experiment a bit there. 

“I think Asgard would have swords or whatever else at my throat if I let their prince sleep on the floor.”

“You’ll be fine,” Loki assured. “There will be enough who insist I deserve it, including, I think, Thor.”

Bruce paused, going over that in his mind. 

“Loki… do you want to sleep on the floor?”

A beat of silence. 

“I am intruding on your time to rest.”

Bruce stared at the grooves in the metal ceiling. It would be completely inappropriate for him to assume a situation was anything like his own in childhood. “That isn’t a no…” 

“Thank you for offering, Bruce.”

Loki didn’t make to move.

Bruce thought to assure him again that it was fine to share and that he didn’t mind—when you’re on the run you end up bunking with all sorts in cramped spaces, and this bed honestly was built for at least three—But he decided against it, ultimately. He wasn’t going to force Loki off the ground.

It was a while trying to sleep by focusing on the faint rumble of the engine, and then he heard the slightest sound of cloth shifting, and the light, even sounds of another person in the room breathing ceased. 

“Loki?” Bruce listened closely. “You okay?” 

Loki hummed in lieu of an answer, and soon enough there was more shifting and a sniffle, in need of a tissue. They only had any of that in the bathroom, but before Bruce could say so Loki got up and stalked towards the door. 

The hot pink light (because that’s the colour they were in most rooms) was bright but not enough to trouble him really. Definitely not something he had expected when he first tried the small room out though.

The sound of the roll being unwound, the tearing of the paper. The tap ran for a few seconds. The light verberations of the engine. A sob not held in well enough. The door slid shut, and Loki stalked back to his place on the ground. 

“...Loki?” Bruce is surprised he managed anything with the lump in his throat. 

“No,” Loki spoke wetly but with a clear attempt at being firm. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Why would you—” his voice seemed to cut off, before he tried again, no calmer. “Leave me alone.

It still sounded heavy, and Bruce knew none of this was likely to go over well with him the next day. But he was clearly upset now, and Bruce couldn’t pretend to sleep while Loki— Loki —cried a few feet away.

“I’m sorry about whatever has made you feel this way,” Bruce tried to comfort, even if he had a pretty decent idea of who and what the cause was. Thor and Loki had… a complex relationship. It was messy, but that wasn’t exclusive to them. With the added destruction of their planet and prior slaughtering of their people by a sister they didn't know existed, tension was understandable.

“I don’t want your—” 

Derision. Condescension. Pity. There were many ways that sentence could go, that Bruce had been there to see them go in the past, and none of them were constructive. Not with those words in particular, but with Loki’s vernacular they were likely suspects. 

“—If you want to talk about it I have nothing better to do, and if you don’t that’s okay too. I won’t pry, but I do still think you would be more comfortable on the bed.” 

Loki’s breathing hitched and then became quicker. The faint rustling sound of him shifting within his blanket. He wanted Loki to know he wasn’t going to… make fun of him for crying, or for whatever was making it harder for him to hide the fact that he was. 

“I can take your spot,” Bruce offered. It’d probably be good for his back. 

“No! Be quiet,” Loki tried to snap, the effect completely lost along the way. “Just—leave me alone.”

Bruce sighed, and mumbled to himself. “Bit hard when we’re sharing a room.”

A frustrated growl and Loki was up again, stalking towards the bed. “Fine!”

Bruce couldn’t help but pull back when the blankets moved, barely able to see the man in the dark, certain that the shine he’d seen were tears. He wasn’t even wiping them away.

He laid there straighter than a box of matchsticks and more likely to spontaneously combust. Suddenly Bruce felt ashamed for forcing his hand. 

“I didn’t mean to—“

“I’ll leave,” Loki decided. “If it troubles you so much.”

But he didn't move, and Bruce knew he meant to leave the room altogether, after the unlikely event that he had asked anyone for help at all. 

“It doesn’t!” Bruce quickly assured. “Not trouble in any way! Goodnight, Loki. Sleep well.”

Loki hummed, and forced back a sob. 

Bruce twitched. Up close was worse. It was so much worse. He could hear every sound in his throat that Loki tried to suppress; He would try to even his breathing out with a slow one every few breaths but couldn’t help it. 

It wasn’t concerning enough to be a panic attack but Bruce didn’t like the idea that he was going to do this all night potentially trying to stave one off—he wasn’t the best person, Bruce wouldn’t ever try to convince anyone of that, but he was… nice, on occasion. He helped them save innocents from Hela when he had no reason to and he tried to be useful on the Statesman no matter how the Valkyrie and Thor treated him a bit harshly. Even Thor admitted he was changed around his fall from the Bifrost and upon return; Both events Loki refused to talk about while Thor brought up often, to no avail (Bruce had a few theories as to why accounts of the story changed between Loki being thrown off, having fallen, and slipped). The most Bruce had interacted with Loki personally was in the days after they had boarded the ship, when anyone with experience was helping sort out injuries attained. 

No matter what harm he had caused in the past, Loki was certainly trying to be better.

That the fabric of his clothes was soft was the first thing Bruce registered when he reached for him. The second was that he certainly had felt the touch but Bruce hadn’t been thrown across the room or anything similar for it. Which meant he probably wouldn't be killed over this.

Bruce was closer to him now and carefully reached for his face, patting down a few times before he got an idea for it and managed a decent hold. 

Loki’s voice was small when he turned him so they faced each other. “Please leave me alone.”

“I’m a human, I get cold easily,” Bruce explained, “huddling together is good thermoregulation.”

He wasn’t resisting being moved around, nor questioning the terminology, which Bruce found odd but didn’t comment. He had felt the tears and puffiness on his face; he doubted Loki was sparing him because he was considered a weak mortal, the same way he doubted Loki got enough hugs as a child. 

Which would be a sad, pathetic excuse to give himself when he considered that neither did he. If he hadn't decided long ago that it would always be the fault of the people around, not the kid themself, if they weren't shown they were loved.

When Bruce was done arranging them the last thing he did was put Loki’s arm over his hip, and his own over Loki’s shoulders to hold him close—Bruce was higher up, and holding Loki’s face to his chest meant it felt a little strange when the man was far taller, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and with the blanket over them it would do.

That it was completely silent for a good minute spoke volumes when Bruce knew Loki as someone to strive to get the last word in. 

“I despise you,” Loki said. Bruce felt that wasn’t a good sign for his safety, but the effect of any fear was dimmed greatly by his face in Bruce’s shirt, when he could feel every movement that wracked his body. It wasn’t much now, but Bruce knew he was still crying. 

You're safe, he wanted to tell him, you're never as unwanted as you think. But he couldn't in good conscience lie without being sure, and Bruce wasn't sure how to convince anyone of things he didn't believe himself.

“I won’t tell Thor. And I’m not going to kick you out of the room, I promise.” 

Loki didn’t respond again, but he did calm down soon. It reminded Bruce why he had shadowed doctors in the past and worked as one while on the run—the feeling of warmth and having done good fresh in his chest, knowing he had done what he could to make a situation better. 

Bruce couldn’t tell how awake Loki was after that, but was able to fall asleep hoping he had helped. 

Notes:

It must have been of some use, because he woke up with Loki still next to him.

And then Loki woke up with Bruce still next to him and Bruce would swear he’d never seen someone’s expression go from peaceful to comically flustered with a straight face so fast. Watch Loki tense up like a muscle after an intensive workout only after Bruce points out they're still laying together comfortably lmao.

Bruce refuses to accept any apologies even when Loki starts to look teary-eyed about it.

Loki will say it won't happen again and Bruce will say he leaves an open invitation and hopes it does because he gets very bored all alone in his room by himself (👉👈). He also informs Loki there's a no sleeping on the floor policy in place so if you don't want the Hulk to go after Thor in the middle of the night it will be followed.

etc. <3