Contrary to what Tony believed, Bruce did not have a huge bag of weed to keep him mellow.
He hadn't even smelt the stuff for over a year until the night of the first day of their work camping trip.
The smell permeated his nostrils while he re-read To Kill A Mockingbird in his tent with his kerosene lamp beside him on the ground.
He tilted his head toward the smell and looked out into the night.
Everybody else was off doing their own thing, which was why he found Darcy by herself on the pier, the crickets chorusing across the lake ahead of them.
"Hey," he called, and Darcy turned, the blunt dangling from her mouth.
She looked too relaxed to not be high – and Bruce felt the usual urge to reach out and touch her skin, which was almost fully on display.
She wore her red bikini top, denim shorts and no shoes.
She gazed at him, heavy-lidded and smiling lazily.
"Hey."
He reached her and looked out over the water before letting his eyes travel back to her.
"You gonna tell on me?"
She was teasing, and it wasn't her first time. She always made fun of him and flirted with him. He didn't usually go along with it.
Tonight felt different.
Bruce shook his head, and wordlessly Darcy passed the blunt his way.
He took a deep drag, feeling the immediate tightness in his chest as the fragrant smoke flooded his lungs.
He coughed, short and muffled by his fist, and passed it back to Darcy.
"Hmm," she said, putting it back between her lips.
They sat together until the weed was gone, Bruce being the one to finish it, pressing the end of it under his sandal, grinding it into the wooden plank of the pier.
When Darcy reached for him, it didn't come across as a surprise, and he didn't want to push her away.
She sighed against him, and he felt the sound reverberate through him down to his cock.
He felt a pleasant fuzziness when they moved together, Darcy climbing into his lap and kissing him breathless.
She felt incredible, and she smelt like something musky.
Bruce knew he could smell her arousal in her little shorts while she moved over his crotch, shuddering once his hand slipped into the front of her shorts, the other cupping her breast and then pinching her nipple.
They were soon panting, and Darcy moved off, tugging him up and toward her own tent.
He didn't care who knew he was in there, if she was about to let him do what he hoped –
They giggled a little once alone inside, and sank to her sleeping bag, its material rustling.
As he pushed inside her she gasped, with one leg hooked over his hip.
She felt so soft, and so warm –
"Go harder," she hissed in his ear, and Bruce felt spurred on.
He became erratic, Darcy's hands covering her mouth to stop the moans escaping.
When he came inside her it was soon after her own orgasm, fluttering around him while he felt equal parts dizzy and blissful buried inside her.
Once he pulled out, he wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
"You got anymore weed?" he asked, voice hushed.
Darcy smiled up at him.