Chapter 67

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Steve P.O.V

It's been two days since Thor bit me and though he has apologized several times, I still find myself unable to forgive him. Maybe I would be more inclined to forgiveness if my penis wasn't throbbing and if I didn't feel so grimy. I haven't showered for three days. But regardless, I'm feeling irritable, so at the moment I'm disgusted by the mere thought of him.

Bruce seems to have forgotten about my injury, but to his credit, I forgot myself the first night as well as the next morning, but by the second evening I began to wonder if something was amiss, yet, as he is the doctor, I assumed it was intentional and that he would come to me when it was time. By the second day, however, the bandages began to smell of urine, I found it was near impossible to keep pee from spattering onto them, and it was beginning to feel sore and itchy. But whenever I went to see if Bruce would change them he was either out of the house or with Natasha and the thought of asking him to look at my privates in front of her is humiliating.

But I can't put it off any longer, this morning it feels hot and is throbbing as if my penis has its own tiny heartbeat. It's so itchy I feel like I could scrape the skin off and it still wouldn't be enough, not to mention there's a malodorous air around me that I'd much prefer to be rid of.

I leave my room and see Bruce just entering his so I call out to him, "Hey, Bruce? I need your help, I need you to..."

"Yeah, one second okay, Steven? I'm busy," he replies, holding up a hand and begins to pull the door shut.

I lunge forward and block it with my foot, "Bruce, please. I really need your help."

"Steve, for fuck sake, I kind of have my own shit going on today," Bruce groans making my stomach drop in humiliation.

I lower my head and cross my arms over my bare chest. "I'm sorry, I just, I really need your help."

Bruce's eyes soften and he sighs. "Fine, just go meet me in the kitchen, I'll be there in, like, 10 minutes." He pats my shoulder and then suddenly rears back. "Shit boy, you reek though. You should go take a shower first."

"I can't, you said not to..." he looks back into the room and quickly shuts the door in my face, "get it wet."

I sigh and plunge my fists into the pockets of my pyjamas before ambling down the hall to the kitchen where I sit at the table to wait. I clench my fists on the tabletop to refrain from scratching myself and I catch a whiff of the pungent aroma wafting up from my armpits and quickly lower them. Bruce can't come soon enough.

I look up at the sound of Callie's chatter and I give her a wide smile as Tony carries her into the kitchen.

"Uncle Stevie," she squeals and claps her hands.

"Okay, go see Uncle while I fix your bottle." Tony sets her on her feet and she races over to me and leaps, I swiftly catch her before she lands on my lap and hold her up on my chest.

"Hi baby," I whisper.

"Peeyooo! Dada, Uncle 'tinky," she exclaims, pinching her nose.

I blush and set her in the chair beside myself.

"Callie, don't be rude," Tony chuckles and walks over holding the warm bottle. He leans down to kiss my head and then pulls back like he's just been slapped in the face. "Shit buddy, she's right, you smell awful and your sweating like you just ran a marathon. Go take a shower."

"I can't," I protest, sinking into my chair. "Bruce said it can't get wet."

"What can't get wet?"

"My... you know..." I tug lightly at the fabric over my bandages.

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