“I think I should have called catering,” Tony says, setting his hand unceremoniously on Bruce’s shoulder before he gives it a squeeze. No one in Bruce’s life over the last six or seven years would ever touch him so casually but Tony has not seen him as the monster inside since they met. Not even during that little mishap in Brazil a few years ago. He’s never been and likely never will be afraid of accidentally triggering the Hulk.
Tony turns to go back inside when light from the sky shoots down in a perfect cylinder, violent and disruptive and loud, throwing Tony down over Bruce (accidental, he isn’t trying to protect the other man) and Steve over Bucky (anything but accidental, and thoroughly distracted given the way Steve nudges his nose against Bucky’s ear as he protects him in busted clothing).
Grass and dirt settle seconds after the light ceases and a massive, long haired blond linebacker in a red cloak pulls himself up from one knee, a massive smile on his face.
“Fenris of Jotunheim. How much you’ve grown since last we met! How fare you and your mother?”
no subject
Tony turns to go back inside when light from the sky shoots down in a perfect cylinder, violent and disruptive and loud, throwing Tony down over Bruce (accidental, he isn’t trying to protect the other man) and Steve over Bucky (anything but accidental, and thoroughly distracted given the way Steve nudges his nose against Bucky’s ear as he protects him in busted clothing).
Grass and dirt settle seconds after the light ceases and a massive, long haired blond linebacker in a red cloak pulls himself up from one knee, a massive smile on his face.
“Fenris of Jotunheim. How much you’ve grown since last we met! How fare you and your mother?”