insurgents | OPEN POST.

[Dear heart, he's so grumpy she could bottle it. Actually... She digs her hand into her purse, feeling around.]

With my shining sword and noble steed? [Ah-hah, there it is.] That had better be what you're implying, because otherwise- Here, scowl unbecomingly. [Double selfie! Advancements in technology these days sure are a thing.] - Otherwise you're going to have a whole new set of problems.

[She lets him go to bend over her smartphone, typing furiously and no longer walking forward. If he can see over her shoulder, she's clearly captioning this candid work of art and sending it to some familiar names. Distracted explanation offered without prompting (or context),] Evidence.

[ Were she in his place, he's pretty sure she wouldn't be just grumpy, she would be pissed. So, all in all, better that he was the one to get stuck with the guy. ]

No need, you just have to look at them funny. [ Yes, he knows that's not the smartest thing to say, but there. He knits his eyebrows together when she fishes out her phone, though he does as she asks him and frowns at the camera in a comically exaggerated way. ]

What are you doing? [ A picture he's all fine with, but he didn't exactly agree with sending it to half the people he knows. He tries to fish the phone out of her hands, though he doesn't put too much effort to it, already resigned to the fact that it's no use. ] Stop— I didn't say I was okay with sending it to anyone!

[That's part of the appeal, really, that he's grouchy and sarcastic where she would be spitting fire. In some strange way, it's always made her feel safer. She's never felt anything but safe, with Bruce.]

I'll make you look funny, buster. [Nonsensical, automatic, she's making a mental note to collect on this later.

She does look up, contrite, when he fails to grab her phone as though she hadn't considered that he might not want their silly face photo released into the unforgiving aether of cyberspace, but it's too late. She puts the phone away.] I wanted the timestamp and backdrop so no one would think we're skipping the keynote. [Like this is a reasonable explanation or apology, or anyone would miss the keynote. Today's guest was a mystery and they'd both already spent a good part of the morning speculating about topic and identity. Already the halls were emptying as people went in early to find better seats.]

[ He presses his lips a little, more amused than upset, though he does let out a soft whine when she puts the phone away. A battle lost— except it never was a real battle to begin with, but anyway. ]

No one thinks we're skipping the keynote. Although if we wait for much longer, we'll be sitting in the back rows.

[ And they were in grad school together, she knows how Bruce hates the back rows. Granted, he doesn't need the best seat in the house either, but still. ] Speaking of, we probably should... [ He tips his head to the thinning masses of people, stealing another sandwich from the plate before he sets it down somewhere. ]

Or... [She thinks about letting it go - really, seriously, considers it. Just not saying anything and rounding the corner and sitting down together, because he's right, no one thinks they're going to skip the keynote. Some of their friends might be waiting for them. It will probably be a really good speech. They can still make it, and easy. There will be other times.

It's this last thought that decides it for her because she'd had that thought before, that thought had once been one of too many ghosts and she's too old for those kinds of regrets. She catches his hand before he can begin to move away, tugs him closer, speaks in a low rush.] Or we could go make out in an empty classroom until dinner.

[She raises an eyebrow, turning red but daring him to question her or to say anything about it.]

[ The single word draws Bruce's attention, eyebrows raising just barely in curiosity, a bit of confusion. He figured Betty has been looking forward to the presentation all morning, as much as Bruce himself has —or was, anyway, before he got stuck with possibly the most boring and backwards person in this whole conference, a single conversation enough to suck the patience and ability to concentrate right out of him.

Curiosity gives way to surprise when she answers the question in his mind, of what else she could possibly want to do besides the keynote; finally surprise turns to amusement, and a kind of bashful excitement as he smiles at her, gaze lifting to meet hers in an almost reserved way. ]

So, the... evidence was more like a fake alibi. [ He mumbles, amused, sandwich all but forgotten as he lifts his head and brushes his lips over hers. ] You know, I never actually fooled around in school.

[ No one is surprised. ]

[It's true. What a shock. Although that's only true as long as building a bomb doesn't count as fooling around. She thinks, a little bit, that it might, and kisses him back, polite and soft.]

Come on. It'll be fun. A little hooky will be good for you.

[In her best peer pressure voice, like he still needs convincing. She's definitely the authority here; none of her early romantic interests may have survived contact with the General, but first base? Covered. And the way he looks at her, a little sweet, a little shy, and so very fond ... after all this time she's still such a sucker. A sucker with good taste. Her thoughts turn a little predatory, and she starts tugging him in some new direction before things get too PDA.]

[ He's not really counting it as fooling around, no. He's not even so much as thinking about that, least of all right now. Thankfully; bad memories like that tend to ruin the mood.

It's a little difficult to wipe the shy smile off his face, but there's no resistance whatsoever as she drags him off somewhere, gladly letting her take the lead in this as in everything else. He feels almost exposed right now, as if his footsteps echo a little louder down the hallway, and a small part of him keeps worrying someone will hear, glancing around as if he expects one of their friends or acquaintances to step back out and see why they're taking so long.

It also prompts him to walk a little faster. He definitely doesn't want to have to go listen to that keynote now. ]

[She's sure he's on board when Bruce picks up the pace and she walks confidently as though there's something in particular she needs him to see right away. It isn't... wholly untrue.

There's either no one inside 2B2, or there's a very quiet someone lurking in the dark because all the lights have been flicked off. Betty doesn't turn to look, too busy backing Bruce against the door and untucking his shirt because this is apparently what making out means, and not the bit with the mouth parts.

The setting sun cuts through the blinds and paints the near walls broad stripes of orange-pink at the perfect height to be dazzling, and there's a mechanical hum - computer, air-conditioning, who knows - buzzing in the background.]

[ Even though he knows why they're sneaking around like a pair of teenagers, it still catches him off-guard when she pushes him up against the door the moment they're inside the classroom. It takes him a few good seconds to catch on, during which his hands just hover awkwardly to his sides, eyes dropping when she untucks his shirt.

He doesn't even dream to tell her not to do that, though. His hands move finally, cupping the sides of her face, tipping it just enough that he can lean in and press his parted mouth to hers, teeth nipping lightly at her lower lip.

The background noise, whatever it is, buzzes in his ears, but he's more focused on the sound of her breathing, the fumbling of their clothes, their feet shuffling when they shift closer— the soft unbidden chuckle he lets out at the exciting secrecy of this little escapade. ]

Edited 2016-03-15 17:13 (UTC)

[What's the fun of a secret tryst if you don't play up to all the illicit elements? The door's not locked - she's not even sure it can be - but there might be some warning, like this.

She likes how she can surprise him, how he's only just reacting to her by the time she has enough access to slide her hands right up his shirt, like she could slip under his skin as easily as she slips between the front panels of his suit jacket and nestles her weight against him. Like he's a soft sweet thing who can't resist her, even when he's all cutting edges to the rest of the world. (Okay, so the conversation she overheard may have somewhat affected her plans for the evening. He's hot when he's mean.)

She leans up into his kiss, unable to stop smiling, and gropes gently at his chest in retaliation when he nibbles, when he laughs.]

What? Do you feel corrupted yet?

[ The thought of getting caught isn't so present on his mind right now, but that might just be because his mind's otherwise occupied. When he does catch up to that, though, he'll likely find it more exciting than anything else.

If only she understood how easily she can slip under his skin, how she doesn't even need to touch him to manage that. But her hand slipping underneath his shirt feels just as wonderful, and he sighs a little softly against her lips, his hands sliding down her neck, rounding her shoulders, trailing down her back.

It's true too: he can't resist her. But that's okay, he never minded that. How could he? ]

You do seem to always find new ways of corrupting me. [ [ He's smiling still, though, even when he squirms a little at the groping, his hands pressing into the small of her back and tugging her closer. ] ] Lucky you... I like it.

Lucky me. [It's saccharine and sincere, and she sinks into it, licks at his teeth and savors his squirming, feels precious in his arms. Feels fortunate.] I do like to keep my hand in.

[She waggles her eyebrows in case he missed it, but it's dark and their faces are close together and the effect might be lost - so she enforces her point by tweaking his nipples, then dropping her hands to hold him around his waist. She scratches at the sensitive skin at small of his back, above the line of his trousers, and then his lips are still right there so she has to have those too. As she leans in, she arches, pushing back against his hands, encouraging him to wrinkle her blouse.]

[ He can't see it too well, but he can almost hear that waggle in her voice, and he grins lopsidedly. Amusement that's soon replaced by surprise and a tinge of arousal, a soft gasp spilling from his lips when she plays with his nipples, his back and hips arching away from the door, closer to her. Her hands wander to the small of his back, the sensitive skin there reacting easily to the touch, a shiver rolling up his spine and keeping his body pressed flush against hers.

His fingers curl into the fabric of her blouse, hands fisting it lightly as he pulls her closer, mouth fitting against hers as he tugs her shirt up just so, and his touch slips easily underneath it, feeling the smooth and warm skin. Thumbs press, dig; trying to slide farther up her back and sides. ]

[She squeezes his ass through his pants, scratches at his shoulder-blades under his shirt, moans into his mouth with vicious aforethought. He's gratifyingly responsive to her touch. It's more like making out with heavy petting, more risque than anything young Betty might have gotten up to, but it's hard to resist pushing things further when she knows exactly how to do it, knows that he'll let her.]

I wonder how many people are still out there. [murmured hot against his cheek] I wonder if - mnnh - anyone else decided to skip and is just wandering around now. If we'd hear them coming if they were right. out. side.

[His hands on her skin make her wiggle her hips, chasing the feeling of him surrounding her, holding her, wanting her, and sweat prickles along the surface of her skin.]

[ It's definitely more than Bruce thought they were going to get up to in this classroom, and it probably shows in the surprise that each of his gasps carries, how his hands tense and curl tighter into her back. But he doesn't point it out, he doesn't complain, not when her hands feel so wonderful on him, when her voice lilts warmly against his skin.

His eyes flutter closed, his head tips, his ear closer to her lips. The awareness of their situation dawns on him with a wave of excitement, of dread, worry, all of it mixed together and washing over him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. ]

Then, we— [ He croaks out, and pauses to clear his throat. His voice drops lower too, as if he's worried someone outside might hear them. ] We should... lock the door.

[ He doesn't reach for it, though. Just words, but he has a feeling she kind of likes how risky this all is. He'd be lying if he said it's not exciting to him too, arousing even. ]

[He's right, she does like it. She especially likes it because she thinks he likes it and she likes the way his breath catches and his voice tightens and how he doesn't make a move to stop any of this, but she also likes it because it's a new kind of risk. A very ordinary risk that they've never taken. Something they might have missed.

Laughing, a little breathless, also hushed.] I'm not sure it locks. We could always try. Are you okay? Is this okay? [She kisses his throat while she waits on his answer, doesn't feel him up quite so aggressively.

Really, the grand scale of questionable things they have done together, getting caught canoodling in semi-public wouldn't even make it on the list. Another unromantic thing to think loudly and not say. She's sure that in very specific (albeit unfriendly) circles, their relationship is already noteworthy, might as well exacerbate everything. It's not that she wants them to get walked in on. It just doesn't concern her like it should.]

[ Ordinary to other people, maybe— to Bruce it's still something unique and exciting, something new. A funny thing, finding such a thrill in this when they've done much kinkier and more daring things. Maybe it's just that he's not used to it, that he hasn't done anything like it. The novelty of it all. He'd never even thought about doing something like this before, and now he's starting to think that he was missing out.

Or not. It's probably more exciting that it comes out of nowhere like this. ]

It is. [ She barely has to wait for the answer, soft and warm and a little breathless. He nods and tips his head back for a moment, offering more of his neck to her, then drops it lower again so he can look into her eyes, hopefully clear enough even in the dark. ] It's very okay.

[ He kisses her briefly, then again, lingering, hands sliding up her back, bunching up the fabric of her blouse. Much like her, he can't even bother to think or worry about what would happen if someone did walk in on them, though he's still keenly aware of that possibility, and somehow it only turns keeping quiet into even more of a challenge. ]

[She sucks on his neck lightly when he offers it to her, nothing that will leave a mark. They're going to leave this room looking messy and rumpled as it is, and she plans on being unbearably smug all through dinner but no one needs more evidence as to why.

There's a moment when she considers pushing off his jacket, but then he kisses her once, and then again, and she just can't be bothered. Up on her toes, precarious, she pulls herself closer with arms hooked under his armpits and up around to hang off his shoulders. Her head tilts, hair spilling back to brush against his hand, and she leans in to suck on his ear lob, kiss the rim lightly, lick her way carefully inside. His shirt is a bunched disaster where her chest presses against him, and she sways, standing. It's as though if they weren't already against the wall, the door, if his arms weren't around her, the room would tilt right out from under them.

She moans again, right beside his ear, just to be a jerk.]

[ Her mouth on him feels too good for him not to comply, tilting his head to let her reach wherever she wants to, kiss and nibble at whatever she likes. His eyes slide closed, deep breaths turning more audible when she plays along the sensitive edge of his ear, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

But he's quiet, at least, which can't really be said for her. His first answer to that moan is nothing more than a surprised gasp, fingers digging into the flesh just below her shoulder blades, curling around the back of her bra. It shouldn't surprise him, though, he knows her and she can be such a terrible tease at the most unexpected and even inopportune of times, with her mouth that close to his ear and their hands vanishing halfway underneath their clothes, he should be expecting it. ]

I thought we were— [ He stops when his voice flees from him, lilts into a pitch a little too high, head turning so his breath and his words spread across her cheek and jaw. ] —going to keep quiet.

[What are you talking about, Bruce? This is a great time for teasing. Everyone is somewhere else listening to a speech or else already back in their rooms. The only reason anyone might try to enter this room at any point before morning is if they forgot something here (oh, maybe she should actually look around), if they were looking for a discreet location for clandestine snogging (dibs!), or if, say, they heard strange sounds while passing by and pulled a Nancy Drew on them.

Betty giggles like a girl half her age, breathless and flushed, purely and exclusively delighted by the break in his voice.] I thought we were going to lock the door. C'mon, Banner, let me hear you.

[As encouragement, she licks a hot line along the smoother skin along the hinge of his jaw encouragingly and blows air across the moist streak, before returning her attention to his ear.]

[ That last point is precisely the kind of situation Bruce is more worried about. Actually, 'worried' isn't a good word, because he's not really worried; he's too far into the realm of excited and aroused to be truly worried about someone trying to come inside just because they hear noises coming from the room. ]

I thought the door didn't lock. [ He offers with the same lilt of amusement, lips twitching into a grin when he hears her giggle. The sound alone makes his stomach flutter, like they're in their twenties and he can't even look up at Betty without feeling the metaphorical butterflies, and she's smiling at him and leaning close for their first kiss, and he gives her that like he has everything else since then.

Moments like this make him realize he never really moved past that phase where he just went around carrying an intense and hopeless crush for her, but he doesn't mind. It's kind of sweet, he thinks, even if a little silly.

He still bites back the sounds threatening to spill past his lips, though, biting his lower lip and pressing himself back against the door. But her warm breath hits his damp skin and he can't keep the soft gasp from coming out, not too loud but there nonetheless, his hands sliding to her armpits and his thumbs digging underneath the pad of her bra. Payback of sorts. ]

[Adults adulting very responsibly. His face is all shadows but she can picture it perfectly well, tilting towards her like he can't do anything else or can't help but look to her. Like she's arresting, magnetic, because that's how he's always been for her too. His hands where they are is just fine, maybe a little ticklish, but she curls in towards him anyway, scrunching up, anticipating but not prepared to release him or do anything else about it.]

Hmm. We should check.

But I don't think I'm ready to let you extract yourself yet. And I'm certainly not going to do it. [She squeezes his trapezii for emphasis, and then just because she wants to. Blame it on vertigo. Very convincing,] I guess it just can't be helped.

[He's still very quiet, not that she really expects him to stop resisting her on this point. She licks her lips, then licks his lips like if they were only further apart, if his mouth were only more open, he'd also be louder for her. Very subtle about what she wants out of him, sure.]

We should. [ But he doesn't. Because he can't be bothered to take his hands off her skin now, because he doesn't want to interrupt what they've got going on here, and last but definitely not the least, he's enjoying the thrill a little too much right now. He's wholly blaming her for that, by the way.

He leans his closer to her instead, head tipping and mouth chasing after hers when she licks his lips. A soft mewl slips past but that's about it for now— if she wants him panting and moaning right here and now then she'll have to do better than that. Which is something he thinks, somewhere vaguely at the back of his mind, but doesn't say out loud. She would take it as a challenge and... well, he knows how Betty is with challenges.

His thumbs slide a little farther underneath the padding of her bra, searching blindly for her nipples, but only briefly brushing over them before he draws away again. One hand pulls away entirely, even, to move down her back instead, settling just above the perfect curve of her ass, tugging her closer to him. ]

[The thought runs through her mind as well, but she likes him like this too, solid and subdued, patient and poised, manfully resisting her wiles. It's victory enough that he's in here with her now, whining inaudibly against her lips and playing along.

She squeaks a little when he grazes her nipples, curling in tighter even after his hands have moved away, lets one of her supporting hands drop when he presses her to him, uses it to trace abstract diagrams along his back.]

As long as... we're all clear on... which precautions we're not taking. [Kissing and conversation are probably more of an OR activity and she focuses a little more on the first for a while.] We should take off your jacket. [With all the free hands neither of them have to spare. This is a very hands-on make-out session. Is this what being blamed feels like? She's probably good for it.]

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