Someone wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} porn_battle, |
“You have to understand,” Bruce tells him, “–that this thing is not a weapon.”
Above them rain has begun to fall, heavy and cold through the broken warehouse roof, and after a brief rumble of thunder, it starts to pour in earnest. Neither moves – the cold is more noticeable now to Bruce without the other man’s body heat. Blonsky appears unaffected – soaking wet – but impassive.
“So what now, then?” The soldier’s question hangs in the air between them.
Banner sighs and shakes his head, “I’m not saying you should leave. I was just wondering why you stayed.” He searches Blonsky’s face for a while, measuring his next words carefully, “And I really wish that it was easier, but we can’t just ignore this.” The gesture he makes seems to encompass all that has passed between them.
The former captain grimaces as rain runs down his face, and causes his hair to stick to his forehead. He considers Bruce with an unsettled look, then shrugs, “The hell if I know. I’m going back to the room, ‘s fucking cold.” He stands for a couple of seconds, seemingly waiting for Banner’s reaction.
“Okay – fine – let’s go back, then.” Bruce does not pursue it, seeing the other man’s unwillingness to broach the subject, “You’re alright?” He asks not for the answer – more to patch things up, if that’s possible. Everything has to be indirect with Blonsky – strangely the opposite the soldier’s own brash character.
“Fine. Tired. It doesn’t matter – forget about it.” The man is already beginning to walk back the way they had come.
Bruce, exasperated again, just follows him – knowing that he can only do so much, and for now content to simply fall into step with him, the soldier’s profile yielding no answer but a sideways glance at Bruce.
--end