Work Text:
Finishing the last few white dots, Bruce sat down his paintbrush on the table he was hunched over. He wasn't sure how happy he was with the end results. Still he did feel more physically relaxed which was the whole point of the experience. At least for him since he knew Thor had other motives. So regardless of whether or not he liked what he'd painted, it was a win.
“How’s it coming over there?” Bruce asked curiously, glancing over his shoulder to check on the silent blond.
Thor and himself were sitting in Steve’s art studio. He’d been hesitant to let them use it, but offered while he and Sam went out on a mission in Europe after the god had given them his puppy eyes. Sometimes it really was ridiculous what kind of sweet things his new boyfriend would do for him.
Bruce pushed each of his painted wooden slabs across the table and stood up. Each one represented a different season. He had thought it was a fitting theme considering he was literally painting on a piece of a fallen tree as winter blew in. A nice change of pace compared to canvas. Although he surprisingly found he liked the fluidity of watercolor compared to acrylic. The latter just forced him to think too much, whereas with water he literally went with the flow.
As artists went, Bruce supposed he wasn’t that bad, or at least not the worst out there. If he was a betting man he might even wager he wasn't the worst in the Avengers Tower. After all, he had completed many theoretical scientific drawings in between writing down ideas in journals.
Art without any guidance behind his thoughts, was more personal though. It forced him to focus on nothing he normally did entirely. Something that was creating a whole different form of meditation Bruce was starting to find he enjoyed. Sure, he'd known about art and music therapy, but he'd never genuinely considered them for himself.
Giving his poor season themed paintings one last look, Bruce turned around. Stepping the five feet between their small tables, he peeked over Thor’s shoulder at his creations. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but whatever it was definitely wasn’t what he actually saw.
Thor’s paintings were magnificent. The kind that would give Steve a run for his money if he saw them. Only better because his realism contained color whereas the other blond kept his creations on the gray scale. He didn’t know if his boyfriend had been deliberately keeping his talent a secret or if he had just never considered it a gift. Bruce was sure it was the latter.
Studying the wooden paintings closer, Bruce sat his hands on Thor’s shoulders. The Asgardian had only taken two slabs of the wood, vocally appreciating how he could give them a memorable nod to his past while praising the hardiness of the material. He had assumed that meant something in regard to Norse mythology, or more directly Asgard itself. Perhaps symbolism or creators of some sort.
On the left piece of wood was a young man, no later than his early twenties, standing tall in brown and gold leather. The length of his long black hair, braided much like he’d seen Thor’s on occasion including his beard. He also stood like many knights, a foot resting on a log with his hands on his hips. Noble and proud. It reminded him more of medieval times than the era of the Vikings.
Bruce looked at the second painting, to see quite the odd contrast. Honestly it looked like the same man, only with shorter and slightly different braids. He held purple flowers to what was apparently an angular jaw when free of facial hair. The black and silver leather he wore, fitting in a more formal way. It felt like he knew them where they stood in the hint of a meadow Thor had created beneath their booted feet.
“My stunning nephews,” Thor told him, glancing up at him with sad blue eyes. “The two of them were ripped from us, far too soon.”
Bruce forced himself to remain impassive and not physically respond, connecting the dots. If the boys in the paintings were Thor’s nephews, that meant they were Loki’s children. No wonder he thought they looked familiar. The two of them reminded him of their Father.
Dating Thor, Bruce knew he was going to have to get used to the fact Loki might be a regular part of his life at some point. Now was not the time to contemplate that though considering the Asgardian was clearly mourning. He smoothed some of the stray locks of blond hair behind Thor’s ear for him, hoping to comfort him some.
“What were their names?” Bruce asked, prompting Thor to talk about it if he wanted while not being too invasive about what was probably a sensitive topic.
“Vali,” Thor said, pointing from the painting on his left to his right. “... and this is Nari. The two were twins. Controlled chaos unlike their Father until… Well, let us not speak of it, but do not let Vali fool you. It is a grave mistake all made. Noble to the eye, he was cunning in his own ways. Setting the twins to a task was a dangerous decision, especially paired with their brilliance. Not near Loki’s of course, they were but lads still, however, should they have lived they would be conquering the universe as we speak.”
“I mean... that’s not terrifying or anything,” Bruce admitted before he could stop himself but surprisingly Thor laughed.
“Not as much as you may think, love,” Thor said kindly, grinning at him.
Bruce nodded, accepting the answer and not really wanting to know more. At least not yet. Maybe in the future they could go over such family details, but all he really desired at the moment was some much-needed relaxing alone time. It was hard to find peace with a tower stocked full of SHIELD agents while Tony lurked in every ceiling. Although that was perhaps a good reason to move them to the shower as he placed a reassuring kiss to Thor’s cheek.
Unlike him though, Thor wasn’t covered in paint. Again, it didn’t make any sense. He was huge, sitting just as close to his table as he had been and had worked with a lot more brushes and color. In comparison Bruce looked like a splatter wall compared to the Asgardian.
“Let’s go,” Bruce offered. “I want to get this paint off of me. I’d rather shower on my floor than use Steve’s.”
“Mmm, is that an invitation?” Thor asked with a deep rumble that held the promise of a good time. “I can definitely get it off of you, if you ask nicely.”
As Thor spoke, he turned around in his seat probably to see how serious or flirty he was being, and his little grin morphed into a bright full-fledged smile. He even started chuckling, causing Bruce to scowl slightly in return. The reaction only caused the Asgardian to laugh harder though.
Feeling light from all the painting still, Bruce simply huffed and swiped his fingers through the perfectly neat globs of color on Thor’s palette. He was going to ask him serious questions on how he was so good, but for now he would settle on bringing the god back down to his Midgardian level of skill. Of course that meant childishly smearing a handful of color on the blond’s bearded cheek, before dragging it down his thick neck and onto his stretched white tank top. It was possible he let his hand linger teasingly on his muscular peck as he turned on his heel.
Thor often acted like a child anyways, with a playful and cheerful personality. It was something that’d eventually drawn him to the other man since his own life tended to be so serious. Bruce was trying to appreciate that more. Embrace it in full. Something he was pretty sure he achieved based on the Asgardians gob smacked expression as he walked towards the door with a smile of his own.