His fatigues were loose enough to allow him easy movement but still confining enough where he was limited on how much of the material he could rip on various obstacles to getting to his target. Right now though, they were feeling itchy, hot and tight as his ardor rose alarmingly within him, and he knew from the reports that they had only a few minutes before they wouldn't care where they were or anything else. They just would want each other as hard and fast as they could, like a bunch of damn animals.

"Do I look like I work in the science department? No," he replied through gritted teeth as he maneuvered the couch where he wanted it and dropped it, rubbing his hand over his brow and making the mistake of looking over at Wilson. "There was a America chemical made by Howard Stark in the mid-40s that caused people to go berserk and tear each other apart. They've been tinkering with that formula for years to see what they could..." he trailed off as his mouth felt suddenly dry with Wilson palming himself and no act had ever looked so damn arousing in all of his life. "Jesus Christ, stop that!"

His brain was thoroughly derailed from the topic of conversation as he rubbed his now sweaty palms down his thighs and tried to remember what the hell they had been talking about. He really just wanted out of his clothing. Why had he worn so many belts and buckles anyway? "How long does what last?"