That the car is wasting gas, and they're similarly wasting time, is entirely irrelevant this moment. They're close, Chris is willing by default of his inaction, and Blonsky is finding out he enjoys the sounds the stupid genius makes. Too readily he can visualize several different ways of eliciting those responses. Chris's cocky declarations do not help him at all, either.

"Is that so?" His hand still holding Chris's shifts, rough thumb now stroking tender palm. "Prove it."

He moves in again, cheek nudging Chris's chin up, and trails light kisses down to his Adam's apple. He sucks the skin, barely grazing with his teeth before continuining on. Chris's shirt is pulled out of the way, exposing the tender bit of flesh where shoulder meets neck. There he bites, intentionally sharp, though not hard enough to bleed. He licks at the marks.

He growls then, surging forward, and the loud blaring horn startles him back. The mood's effectively killed. He blinks a few times, trying to catch his breath, and the helicopter roaring overhead is enough to bring his mind back quickly to the present, their situation, why they'd hotwired the car to start with.

"Right, well." He sighs. "To be continued later." He groans with disappointment and moves again, this time to shove Chris off him and into the passenger seat. "Time to get moving."