Darcy MFing Lewis (myeu_muh) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-01-15 21:31:00 |
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Bruce Banner was pretty awful at choosing presents to give people. Part of it was his tendency to second-guess himself, but for the most part, he was out of practice. Having a disposable income was entirely foreign to him. Christmas had been a litany of stress-induced panic-shopping, and he didn’t remember the majority of whatever he had purchased. His going-away present for Darcy was probably just as terrible - a tiny little plastic snowglobe of New York, complete with Stark Tower. She’d only be gone for four days, of course, but it felt a little more dire considering that she would literally be on the other side of the universe. Bruce trusted Thor to keep her safe without a shadow of uncertainty, but she was travelling with Loki. The adult version. Bruce knew what a soft spot Thor had for his errant brother. He supposed it’d be a waiting game, and that was that. Bruce knocked on the door to Darcy’s apartment and took a step back, holding the little wrapped present in his hands as he waited for her to answer. He didn’t generally visit her apartment. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel welcome. But he knew that her crush on him and his general-- well, all right, crush right back on her wasn’t to be encouraged (call it like it is, Banner). It was always a push and pull of wanting and turning away. And he was pretty sure it was as exhausting to her as it was to him. It wasn’t nearly as exhausting to her as he (and everyone else) thought it was. Darcy may have been lazy, but she worked for things she wanted. And Bruce? So totally worth it. So when she opened the door, the bright grin he immediately received was not contrived in any way. “Hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you before I left.” She was obviously still getting ready, despite having to meet the group in under an hour. But she was layered up and clearly unsure exactly what to bring so the mismatching clothes could be used in different occasions. She opened the door wide to her eclectic apartment, that was probably more clean than it’d been since she first moved in. “Come on in, hotstuff. You can help me pick between bikinis.” Total fib, and her cheeky grin gave it away. Bruce stepped inside, glancing over the apartment and noting that today he could actually tell what color the carpet was. “Are you going to Asgard or the Playboy mansion?” The pitch of the question was his usual gentle snideness, the quirk of his mouth going up on one side. Darcy’s packing was apparently has haphazard as could be expected. Maybe he should have come here earlier; he had the most experience with packing between them. “Do you mind if I..?” he asked, gesturing to her suitcase. “I’ve done a lot of this sort of thing.” Darcy raised an eyebrow at him, but made a sweeping gesture to the fuckery that was her suitcase. She just tended to throw things in a duffel bag and call it a day, and the pile of clothes had no rhyme or reason. She closed the door behind him and then leaned against the wall of the front hallway, not even bothering to hide checking him out. “You know, you had a chance to do this when I invited you over to help pack.” But there was the little point that when she said “packing”, she hadn’t been under the impression there would be any actual packing done. “Better late than never, right?” he asked, and though his voice was light, he couldn’t help but give the question an edge. The theme of Bruce’s life in a few words. Bruce couldn’t help but wince at the chaos that was Darcy’s suitcase; everything was tossed in as she had seen it. Nothing was organized. Shoes were stacked on top. Ane he was pretty sure that that bottle of shampoo was leaking already. “Hoo boy,” he said, exhaling, and turned back to Darcy because he sure as shit wasn’t touching her clothes unless she cajoled him. “All right. Packing 101 - folding. What are the things that wrinkle the most? We’re going to be rolling them.” “Sure,” Darcy agreed warily, not really agreeing that it was better. Considering she didn’t actually mean packing. Goddamnit Bruce, why’d you have to be so damn difficult. And cute. Even when he was looking down into her clothing in exasperation. Especially then. His forehead got crinkled and-- Darcy exhaled a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall, but she didn’t lose the teasing edge that was almost always there in her voice. “Undies?” A smirk, “Okay, probably t-shirts. But I don’t know if you noticed, I don’t exactly care about wrinkles.” “I know you don’t care about wrinkles,” he answered patiently, “but if you roll them, you can bring more things that’ll wrinkle. And those shoes you tried cramming in this bag and couldn’t make fit.” Judging by the way they were discarded sadly on the floor next to the bed. Bruce may not have had many belongings, but he had enough books to make even his travel frustrating. And he hated leaving items behind - both for tracking purposes, and sentimental reasons. As she rolled a few t-shirts, he picked up the shoes and placed one halfway inside the other, tucking it carefully into a corner, and then tested the suitcase by closing it perfectly over the mess. “There.” He turned back at her, smiling a little, proud. “Would you look at that,” Darcy said in almost mock wonderment. She was actually a little impressed, and more than a little happy that she could bring her doc martens to Asgard. Just in case. “Never know when I might need my ass kicking boots, so thanks for that.” She finished rolling up the last few pieces of clothing and tucked them in, freeing up her hands so she could reach out to not-so-subtly pat Bruce on the butt and tip a grin in his direction. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.” He made a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a disapproving murmur; her violating his butt’s privacy was so common-place that it had its own glare. “You’re welcome,” Bruce answered to the “thank you” that had never been verbalized, and then he remembered. “Oh! Wait! You’ve got one more thing to pack. I forgot...” he pulled the small little wrapped package out of his pocket and offered it to her shyly. “Just so you won’t forget about us on Earth.” If Darcy was capable of vocalizing a keyboard smash, now would have been the time. Her throat made a strangled noise as she accepted the package, hands now in a bubble-appropriate place. Darcy wasn’t the kind of person to take her time carefully unwrapping a gift, and just ripped into the paper. The snowglobe dropped into her hands and she stared down at it with a slow smile creeping across her face. “Not likely I could forget about you-” She coughed slightly, “guys.” The word was added after a second of thought, but it clearly wasn’t what she meant to say. She turned her smile up at him, “Thanks, Bruce.” “You’re welcome,” Bruce said, the second time in as many minutes, but this one lacked the slight bite of the first delivery. There was nothing to be said about it - he liked her when she smiled at him, which wasn’t unusual. She smiled at him a lot. Ergo, he liked her a lot of the time. Most of the time. Pretty much full-time. And sometimes he even found himself smiling at her in a way that wasn’t strictly professional, and it made him look like a bashful idiot, and one look at the mirror across from him confirmed that he was doing it now. Urgh. “I hope it wasn’t inappropriate, giving you a gift,” he said, and he was pretty sure he was sounding particularly stupid at the moment, but he had to get off that smiling road because That Way Led to Poor Decisions. “But-- er--” That bashful smile of his had her moving in a little closer, without even realizing it. It really took all of her willpower not to throw herself at him in this moment, like she would have done in just about any other situation. Darcy was more than a little impulsive at times - most times - and God. Bruce was looking at her like he liked her as much as she liked him in this moment and it was really hard to resist. But she did. Only just. She was still smiling up at him like a lovesick idiot, holding the snowglobe close to her chest, but she kept a few inches of space between the two of them. “Nah, it’s perfect. Nothing inappropriate here.” Except everything. “All right.” Bruce relaxed a minutia upon her confirmation, even if he was pretty sure she was placating him. But really, he’d take it, after all the push and pull he’d put her through. “Anyway. Thor’s giving me a communication device that will supposedly work between the two worlds, but I haven’t had a chance to really examine it, yet. I’m pretty excited; I haven’t seen an intergalactic audio-spectrum converter outside of theory and dreams. I mean, I’ve seen prototypes, of course, but they weren’t actually functioning, and--” He pushed up his glasses and took a breath, “and uh, I’ll miss you all, stay safe, and all that. There. Was that a good segue?” Darcy blinked slowly at his jumping from rambling to telling her he’d miss her. Okay, well... that was very Bruce. Not to mention he added in the “all” rather than just her, but Darcy conveniently muted that word and flushed pleasantly at the idea that he would miss her. “Try not to blow up the lab while we’re gone. You won’t have Jane and I to bug you everyday, and I won’t be around to hit the red button if something happens.” Without realizing it, Darcy was fiddling slightly with the front of his shirt, “I put my iPod on my desk, if you want some music. Didn’t know if it’d work and I’ve got the music on my phone, so. Don’t spend the whole time listening to the audio Harry Potter books.” “Got any whale noises?” he asked jokingly, moderately surprised that she wasn’t bringing her iPod with her. Likely it wouldn’t work again anyway with the various interferences and stress that interstellar travel would put on it. Even Steve Jobs couldn’t have predicted that. Darcy was determined, he’d give her that. But Bruce couldn’t ask her to throw away her life over him when he was pretty sure he’d bring her more heartache than happiness. He had a feeling that saying as much wouldn’t put a dent in her optimism, even so, nor did he secretly want to dissuade her... “You know,” he said, and his hands went up to hers to still them from his shirt, though he didn’t let them go, “I’m pretty sure that internally battling the Hulk is easier than trying to figure out how exactly I should talk to you. Less fun, though,” he added. “Ha,” Darcy soft chuckle made her dip her head down in something akin to Bruce’s own bashful grin. If he looked deep enough, he would find a few calming sea-songs shuffled in with her normal music. Stuff that she grabbed because it made her think of him - along with the playlist that was simply named “Bruce”, which was filled with a bunch of Imagine Dragons (hopefully he wouldn’t be offended by “Radioactive”). Her cheeks flushed a slight pink, and she was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to say stuff like that for fear of her legs melting from her body. Fuck it, she didn’t have the willpower to not go for it at this point. “You don’t always have to talk-” Barely even finishing the sentence, Darcy was up on her tiptoes and pressing her mouth to his. He would have liked to have said that the action took him by surprise, but Bruce was dismayed to learn that his subconscious had been angling for this precise moment from the time he’d first thought of buying her a going-away present. Not allowed, he reprimanded himself, but it was too late, because she was kissing him, and he was kissing her back - genuinely, earnestly, without the slightest of hesitations, his hands dropping to her waist and pulling her closer, pausing in the kiss for some air before diving back in for a lighter peck, attempting to slow his racing mind and figure out where exactly he wanted to go from here. His eyes met hers, and he took another breath, looking a ruffled combination of stricken and right where he wanted to be. “I have-” Darcy was breathless and pressed up against him, but managed to glance over at the clock on her wall before giving him her full attention again, “A half hour?” Damn. That wasn’t enough time to do anything, and now she was having a case of just saying whatever the hell jumped on her brain. That was the thing that was going to drive Bruce away, her inability to censor herself. But God it was their first kiss that didn’t involve an election or a peck on the cheek with New Years and his hair was so soft and Jesus Christ, Bruce let her kiss him and now she was off to Asgard. GO FIGURE. Her hand reached up to tangle into his hair - he’d have to work at it if he wanted to run away this time. “If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to think you don’t want me to kiss you again.” Unbeknownst to Darcy, Bruce didn’t really mind it when she ran her mouth. For as much as he kept locked up, it was nice having someone who was genuinely straightforward to contend with. While he was currently entertaining at least fourteen different reasons why he could stand to lose the hair that she was holding securely in order to save her from himself, he was also... well. Content to stay. He’d beat himself up over it later, he decided, and would analyze it from various angles, and would be horror-stricken at his behavior. “Well, I can’t let you leave thinking that,” he said, and kissed her again, less frenzied than before but no less sweet. This was probably the most surreal moment of Darcy’s life, which said a lot considering she tased Thor. A lot of freaky stuff had happened in her life, but Bruce actually being seemingly okay with kissing her shot straight up to the top. Until that point, she’d never fully accepted the possibility that maybe he liked her just as much as she did him. That thought was one that’d keep her warm at night for the week. It also had her smiling against his lips, only breaking the kiss momentarily. “Hot-Asgardian’s who?” She leaned back in to tug at his lower lip with her teeth. “Give me the hot scientist anyday.” Bruce couldn’t help but give a little huff of laughter at the ridiculousness of the statement even as he kissed her - he was pretty sure most would go for the hot Asgardian rather than the shabby, gray-templed, monster-suppressing scientist any day. He wasn’t certain how he’d gotten lucky enough to meet the woman who didn’t. “We’ll talk once you’re back,” he promised her (but mostly himself, considering he was pretty certain that Darcy couldn’t fathom what there was to Talk about). “Until then... try not to trip and fall over too many Asgardian orgies, all right? And do as I say and not what I do by not letting Loki get to you.” “Deal.” Darcy answered almost immediately, but that didn’t mean she was going to pull herself away from him. Nope. She’d agree to a talk but there was no way she was unhooking her hands from her secure place in his belt. So if she had to agree to keep him here, she would. Not that she thought they had much talking to do - even if she knew he didn’t agree. Blah blah, he’d tell her she was too young, too idealistic, had her life ahead of her. The conversation would probably end with her pinching him or smacking him on the arm and calling him an idiot. But now... Now she was getting kissing. And he was really a lot better at that than she gave him credit for before. Against his lips, she laughingly muttered, “26 more minutes.” |