( open ) it's been so long since I've been gone

[hyperkinesia]

Who: Bruce Banner and anyone
When: April 1st to 3rd, give or take
Where: All around the Moira
What: Bruce comes back after a 3-day nap on a cryo unit, but with over a year worth of memories. From his perspective, it's been a good while since he's been on the Moira.
Warnings: Nudity, an old man accidentally flashing a minor. (Whoops.) Also NSFW for sex in one thread.
( a note: I'm good with both brackets and prose, so just pick whichever you prefer and I'll match! )

WAKE UP; CLOSED TO ZATANNA.

He wakes up with a startle, but it doesn't show. He's just so used to controlling every aspect of himself that when the unit brings him back from his stasis with a jolt, he barely moves. His eyes open, there's a soft silent gasp, but he lies there for a while, letting the cold envelop him little by little, and the memories of his surroundings slowly trickle into his mind.

It takes him a while. It's been over a year since he's been here, and he didn't even remember any of his time here for all the while that he was back in his world. Not even a dream, a ghost of a recollection, just... a complete blank. As if his life had never really stopped, as if he'd never truly been kidnapped into a spaceship on an alternate universe to begin with.

He knew that it was highly likely this is how it would happen when someone goes back home, of course, but one thing is to know or theorize what happens, another thing entirely is to experience it firsthand.

Eventually, he climbs out of the unit, but he doesn't go too far. Still clinging to the edge, cold feet touch the hard metallic floor, his knees nearly giving in under the weight of his own body, and when he glances down, he realizes he's completely naked. Shivering from the cold, little droplets hanging from the tips of his short hair, he looks around, trying to spot some clothes or even just a towel to wrap himself up in.

WANDER; CLOSED TO OBI-WAN.

After the initial shock of waking up, and now wearing a pair of pants and shoes, he's slipped on a hospital gown from the medbay and stepped outside. The objective here is to find his way to his room as soon as possible, to try and figure out what's going on right now, how long he's been gone exactly— who even is around still. He's thinking of a particular someone, actually, but the fear that he won't find Trish's name on the directory is too great for him to even think of checking.

First things first, though: he needs to figure out which way his deck is. All it takes is a couple of wrong turns down a hallway and he realizes he completely lost his way. He's not usually the kind to get lost, but he's ascribing it to the haze in his mind, the disorientation from waking up just a few minutes ago.

He starts glancing around instead, trying to find someone. Hearing footsteps nearby, he walks towards them in hopes that whomever it is, they'll help him find his way again.

REUNITE; CLOSED TO TRISH.

With some details cleared out, some questions asked and answered, and a quick read over the MID and whatever information he can get his hands on, his mind focuses on the next thing to do. He needs to find Trish. He goes back to his room, takes a warm shower and puts on some fresh clothes, feeling marginally better when he steps back outside, short hair and beard both looking impeccable and far less messy than the tangle of curls Trish would normally be familiar with.

It's a strange thing, how this works. He didn't even remember meeting her for that whole year he was gone, but now that he's back here, he realizes just how terribly he missed her, and how scared he is that any memories he has of her can be erased from his mind so easily. It should scare him enough to not want to do anything about it, but it's the opposite, actually. Something about having love and lost, probably.

He distinctly remembers quoting a line from a movie at her that directly relates to the sentiment. The point is, he feels as if he's been given a second chance, and Bruce doesn't get those. Not ever.

The problem is in finding her, though. He goes to her room but it's empty, he tries the radio station but she's not there, he sticks to the most popular areas of the ship, such as the mess hall, the gardens, the recreation room, but she's nowhere to be found. His heart clenches a little in his chest; maybe there's an error in the directory. Maybe she's not really on board, or maybe it's a different Trish Walker. He pushes the crippling worry away, though, and instead starts tapping on his MID, not even looking ahead as he keeps walking down the hallway, much too focused on sending her a text instead.

REACCLIMATE; OPEN.

Bruce used to think getting brought to a spaceship in an alternate universe was the strangest thing to happen to him, but he's quickly revising his opinion. This whole cryostasis experience has been something else entirely, and the sleep part isn't even the weirdest. The weirdest is what's happened on a mental level, and how he experienced over a year of memories in the span of three days.

He has to catch up on some things now, or rather, he has to refresh his memory. He walks the hallways and drops by the most active areas of the ship with curiosity, watching places and people alike, spends hours in the science department rereading files and looking over the work he himself did, slowly filling in any gaps and holes he has in his memory.

Some might have known he was in stasis for the past few days and want to check up on him, some might find the short hair and beard a strange change, either way he looks very approachable no matter where one might find him. Probably even more approachable than he did before.

Or, if he's familiar enough with someone and recognizes their face easily, he might just be the one to go over to them, greeting them with a smile and a hello.

Comments

[notpatsy]

"Would you want to?"

Because she doesn't want him to push himself into anything just to make her happy.

[hyperkinesia]

She's getting a raised eyebrow at that, one corner of his lips twitching.

"You're kidding, right?"

He might have excellent self-control but he'd like to think he's obvious to some degree about how much he wants her.

[notpatsy]

"No, I want to be sure!"

Just because he's into her it doesn't mean he necessarily wants to go further than kissing after all. People are different.

[hyperkinesia]

Fair enough. He still doesn't think she'd have to ask him, but all things considered, it's a good thing that she does.

"Then you can be sure that I very much want to touch you."

He tips his head and presses a slow, lingering kiss to the dip below her jaw.

"Just like I very much want you to touch me."

But that's a whole other thing, of course.

[notpatsy]

"Just show me how."

Because yes, yes she wants to touch him. A lot and all over.

[hyperkinesia]

"We'll have to take things a little slower on the latter."

Mostly because he's not entirely sure how much she can touch him before control slips from his grasp. Touching her, though, is much more feasible and definitely within the realm of what he knows he can do, and his hand slides back down to her side, lips pressing behind her ear as his fingers search for the hem of her uniform's jacket and slip underneath it, tugging her a little closer in the process.

[notpatsy]

"We'll go as slow as you want."

If she sounds a little bit distracted it's because his lips are at a very sensitive spot and his hand seems to be going some very interesting places and there are just all sorts of physical reactions happening to that that is making it really hard for her to focus on what she's saying.

[hyperkinesia]

"Even if I wanted to go slow now?"

Because he doesn't miss the way her breath hitches, the way her voice gets a little lost when she tries to speak. He nibbles lightly at the sensitive spot behind her ear, hand sliding up just enough that his thumb can brush along the edge of her ribs, still over the fabric of the shirt she's wearing underneath her jacket. One too many layers, he finds himself thinking, while wondering if she's even wearing her thermal suit underneath all that.

[notpatsy]

"Yes."

It's more of a gasp than a word, and she arches her back to press into his touch while she speaks, but that's all beside the point. There is no such thing as a point of no return when it comes to this stuff after all, stopping is always an option.

[hyperkinesia]

He still likes the way she says that, more than anything. Like it's not exactly an answer, but more of a sigh, a whisper, a plea. Truth is, his touches could be as slow as can be, he still considers all of this to be incredibly fast by his standards. Not that that means he's hesitant or doubting his own decision— rather the opposite. For once, it's good to allow himself a little more freedom, a little more... more.

His lips trail down her neck, kiss the hollow of her throat, then move back up to trace her chin, finding her lips again. His hand pulls back from underneath her jacket in the meantime, with the single purpose of getting it open and out of the way instead.

[notpatsy]

Feeling his lips caress her neck like that makes her shiver with pleasure, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly she is pretty much turning into a puddle of desire.

She's letting him take the lead here, but when he starts getting her jacket open she gets to work on his as well. Getting some clothes out of the way really does seem like a superb idea.

[hyperkinesia]

Going slowly was kind of the plan here, but that plan is very quickly getting forgotten. Well, maybe not entirely, but there's definitely a little more urgency as he gets her jacket open, then tries to tug it down her shoulders, to no avail. They won't really manage this decently while lying down.

"Hold on," he shifts away, legs folding so he's sitting on his knees, then his hands reach out to her. "Sit up?"

[notpatsy]

She chuckles breathlessly as she takes his hands to pull herself up, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on the floor so it won't get in their way before reaching for him to push his jacket off his shoulders as well.

"We're so smooth."

[hyperkinesia]

A lopsided grin tugs at the corners of his lips at her remark, helping her by tugging off his jacket down his arms and throwing it to the floor too. He's not usually one to make a mess of things, but they can be tidy later. Right now, it's very far from a priority.

"Well, I'm very much out of practice," he murmurs, eyebrow raising as he tips his head a little, hands moving to her sides and pulling her closer. "What's your excuse?"

[notpatsy]

She lets him pull her, settling with her legs on either side of his and her arms loosely wrapped around his neck.

"You're very distracting."

[hyperkinesia]

He chuckles softly, tugging her shirt out of her pants and letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric, touch sliding up her sides.

"Good answer."

[notpatsy]

Leaving her with a bit of a dilemma because now she can't get his shirt off without his hands leaving her skin. For the moment she settles on running her fingers through his hair and kissing him, though shirtless Bruce remains one of the goals here.

"I'm very eloquent."

[hyperkinesia]

It's alright. The main purpose today is for him to touch her anyway, so as far as he's concerned, it's far more imperative to get her out of her clothes. His hands slide up her sides. thumbs tracing the edge of her ribs, breath caught a little in his throat as he moves just one hand back down to start undoing the buttons of her shirt.

"That's getting away from the both of us, trust me."

cw: consenting adults being gross about wanting to bang each other

[notpatsy]

"If getting your hand up my shirt makes you speechless, can't wait to see what happens when you get it off."

She bends her head to find the still calm tick of his pulse on his neck, lips closing over it and her teeth digging into his skin as she sucks not entirely gently on it.

too true

[hyperkinesia]

He's about to answer that, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is a gasp, his head tipping a little as the fingers of one hand do quick and deft work of unbuttoning her shirt, knuckles brushing along the skin up her front in the process. Licking his lips, he swallows dryly and tries again.

"What if it renders me completely useless? Do you really want to see that?"

[notpatsy]

Her breath hitches a little when that light touch trails along the curve of her breast, her nipples hardening with anticipation, aching for his hands and his lips.

"Absolutely."

If she sounds more lustful than playful here it might be because she absolutely is.

[hyperkinesia]

It's impossible not to catch the change in her tone, and his own breath turns a little heavier, his other hand moving up so he can slide both along the skin of her shoulders, guiding the shirt down her arms and out of the way. Leaning forward too, he presses his lips to her throat, down to her collarbones, pressing soft lingering kisses, letting his breath spread warmly across her skin.

[notpatsy]

She slips her hands under his shirt, head leaning back to give him room while her nails dig lightly into the skin on his back. Her breathing has become shallow, each breath almost like a soft gasp, and the warmth of his breath against her skin makes goosebumps flare on her arms in a tingling rush of sensation.

[hyperkinesia]

His breath turns to a gasp at the touch of her hands, the dragging of her fingernails along his skin, hips shifting and pressing closer to hers. His hands move back up to her shoulders and he tugs the straps of her bra down her arms with little pause or care, moving on to unclasp it at the back while his lips trace the curve of her breast along the cup.

[notpatsy]

Her hands leave him only so that she can let her bra slide the rest of the way down her arms and chuck it off to the side along with her jacket and shirt, her chest now completely exposed to him. One hand cradles the back of his head in wordless encouragement, a sigh of pleasure leaving her as her hips shift to press against his in response to his movement.