[ warmth soaks into his gaze when she looks at him like that, softening the deep brown of his eyes as he traces her features. heās observative, always has been, and learning the subtle ways she emotes in different situations have been a pleasure in itself. sometimes, he watches her time-travel, dreaming of a past life heās still slowly untangling. itās not that sheās been closed-off, perse, but theyāve both been so careful, so protective of each other and their relationship. and in a setting like tonight, he finds himself wanting to do whatever he can to soothe away the discomfort that must be rearing its head. heās bringing her into this, and as much as it means to him, to both of them, as much as heās been truly enjoying it, he feels theyāve spent long enough blurring the pieces of his life he meticulously keeps sorted.
but this, the way she smiles, delicate mouth curled, that simple hummed tone laced with coyish playfulness, feels right. he shakes his head, a chuckle quietly tumbling into the narrowing space between them as heās drawn in by her hands. ]
You got me. [ his smile widens as he shrugs off the perfectly fitted suit jacket, reaching around to encircle her in it, in himāhis warmth, his cologne. he tugs her close by its lapels, then wraps his arms around her waist. his hands smooth against the buttery satin, and when he tips their foreheads together, his voice drops, lowering into intimacy just over the faraway music from the dining room. this conversation is meant for just the two of them, and he can feel the joy of showing her this part of him bleeding into his voice. ]
Iāve been introducing you to everyone all night. Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself now? [ and can she blame him for being impatient? for pressing his lips to her response, kissing away the words to taste her smile? ]
( there's something boyish about him, here and nowā maybe it's the lightning, softening his edges and melting the chocolate hue of his gaze, maybe it's the season getting it's gentle teeth into him that way that it does to so many others, or perhaps it's nothing more than the way happiness looks on him, honest and kind. thisā this is the version of himself he deserves to keep hold of, that she couldn't dare allow herself to be the reason it ever gets taken away. if she could bottle it, this moment, she would.
he chuckles, and within a beat she's shrouded in his jacket, enrobing her in a sudden balm of heat and that distinct scent she recognizes from burrowing into his chest time and time again. it all whirls around her, almost dizzying. she can't help but to wonder if this stirring, this teeming energy beneath her skin as he winds his hands about her waist, is something like that telltale feeling of coming home after a long day.
they melt into one another when foreheads graze, that smirk still written surely across her lips as she watches him from beneath her lashes, thumbs brushing at each side of his chest. can you blame me? he asks, only the part of her lips is stolen by his affections and the words are hushed to silence instead.
there's something promising to the kiss, in the knowing of their being alone, even if just tucked away from the bodies in the main dining hall. almost as if a tiny spark of a reminder that they would have the evening to themselves later, truly to themselves. her heart swells at the lingerie lying in wait in her bag back at the hotelā all of it, all of this, pulls a honeyed vibration of a hum from the bed of her throat. that very smile he wished to taste is what breaks the connection, but she doesn't stray too far, mouths still close enough that brims stumble when she finally speaks. )
Not even a little bit. ( punctuated by a sweet, brief kiss. ) The idea of you keeping me to yourself sounds much better, actually.
[ heās dialled in to every part of his body, has fine tuned every second of training into pointed control, and every time sheās near him, against him, all that awareness funnels directly to the soft press of her body against his, to the brush of her thumbs over the fine weave of his shirt. ]
Good, weāre on the same page, then. [ she echos his thoughts, and he smiles beneath the sugary kiss pressed to his lips. she should know that this is all hers, and that she has no reason to ever believe her being with him could ever bleed the warmth in his eyes dry, or wash away the kindness at the core of his being. their careful nurturing of this connection now contributes to his happiness, and he believes he owes a lot of his growth over the last year or so to her.
he closes the distance between their lips again, chasing the taste of her as pulls her flush against him. sheās small and delicate against him, and her waist feels so trim, and he wonders for a countless time whether he can feel all that power, thrumming beneath her skin.
he deepens the kiss, tilts his head to fit their lips against each other. ]
Grayson! [ comes the distant call from the other room, and he wouldāve jumped if wasnāt so used to shock, so instead, he breaks their kiss and looks over his shoulder to a teammate grinning at him from the table just around the corner. ] Come back in or go get a room. Weāre freezing our asses off here!
[ he laughs apologetically, nodding with a wave before taking her hand in his so they can cross the threshold and shut the French doors behind them.
the terrace is bathed in the warm glow of the string lights, the strands of light wound around cedar garlands, and he can see the way it all sparkles in her eyes. thereās that distinct stillness that only accompanies snowfall, and a quiet jazzy tune plays over the speakers. here, they can see the city lights and smell the salty lick of the sea. ]
Sorry. [ for the heckling, for his coworkers. he smiles. ] Theyāre just happy for me. I think.
( more often than not, the knowing that there's eyes on her leaves her in unrest, unable to capture the present when it feels as if it's not entirely her own. the closer she's gotten to him, the more he's brought her out of that reclusive bubble, the more she realizes it's a defense mechanism more than anything ā to be unwitnessed, unheard, unbothered, it's the only way she knew to protect herself.
but he wraps his arms a bit more snug around her frame, pulls her in flush and the prick of the cold wafting in from the doors they linger near goes unnoticed with the heat that licks up her spine, rushes through her belly as his mouth parts and head cants for mouths to slot perfectly. a gentle, full sweep of her tongue, a brief taste before the little reality they'd slipped into is broken by the sound of his name, throats coated with champagne and the giddy sort of happiness that can be attributed to the time of year.
a sheepish smile finds her lips as they tuck in on one another, peeking over toward the group that looks on at them. there's an apologetic glint to her eye, pulling his jacket in a bit closer to her chest as he leads them to the glittering patio.
the brisk air greets them without abandon, here, a flush to her cheeks born not just from the cold, but the intimacy that hugs the evening thus far, how it feels as if they're running on stolen time, being able to just enjoy one another this way. )
Don't apologize. ( she's quick to hush it, hair rustling with the wind that carries through, stirring at the lights and carrying with it flecks of snow that manage their way in. ) I'm happy you have them. ( there should be a sadness there, even guilt, that she hasn't allowed herself to get as close to the avengers as he has with his team. a makeshift family of his own. the last thing she wants is for him to feel as if it's his responsibility to provide that to her, solely. someday, perhaps, that brazen, social little girl in sokovia will come back to her.
she drifts a bit from his side but finds his fingertips, stepping backward til it's only their digits that are linked together, teeth sinking into her teeth invitingly. a request without a request ā a: dance with me? she hopes he'll read when she gives a gentle tug. )
I almost feel bad, stealing you from them. ( a tilt of her crown, a playfulā ) Almost.
[ but he should apologize for bringing her into this in the first place, that these teammates have gotten so comfortable with him that their teasing translates toward her. it's loving, he knows, and he takes comfort in knowing they think of him as one of his own. not as a wayne, or a vigilante, or something to be feared, but rather, just good old regular officer Grayson.
and he thinks she understands that, when she simply tells him she's happy for him, because for people like them, normal is a luxury. perhaps that's why he wants so badly to share it with her too, to indulge in the comfort of being just another person in a sea of people trying to do something together.
but the sentiment fades with a tip of his head as she playfully cants her own and steps away from him. ah. the mirth softens in his eyes as his grin widens and he relents. ]
Well, they get me most other nights, even if they don't fully know it, [ he says, as he shifts his hand to let her digits catch the edge of his his, where he follows the pull of her body and extends his arm just slightly. he doesn't dance often, but he's been an acrobat all his life, and he could never hold anything back when she looks at him like she does. he takes their hands to the side and finds her waist with his other, takes a step forward and glides her back with the soft tune drifting with the snow. ]
Thanks. For tonight. [ there's a closeness in his voice reserved for just her. ] You did so good, and I know you did it for me.
( she'll accept no such apologies. it wears at her in its own way, having to be on amidst so many who light up when they see him, whose attentions naturally drift to the one at his armā but it's good for her, too. keeps her from slipping too far into herself, reminds her that there's still humanity there tucked within her, that she has something worthwhile to give, when she so often feels as if she doesn't.
he follows her willingly, drawing them together as if it were just another night in a dim hotel room, and there's nothing to stop the way her smile radiates, pearled teeth glimmering while her palm steadies at his side, the opposite outstretched with his just enough to keep the jacket he'd wrapped around her shoulders in place. )
They do. ( an agreeing hum, but there isn't any bitterness there. he was the very crux of them, it wasn't difficult to see. more often the needs they catered to were far more pressing than her own, though there's no denying the closer they get, the more she craves the consistency of him, in any capacity. ) I'll have to start convincing you to stay more often.
( the music sets a lulling pace, something sweet, demanding nothing from them other than to breathe together, step together, be, admiring the way the cold begins to bite rouge into his cheeks. )
We'll consider it a raincheck. ( she stops herself from hushing the gratitudes, the apologies, and merely lets the appreciation linger a moment, following the guide of his steps with a thoughtless ease. ) Sooner or later I'll have to answer the calls. ( he's seen them riddling her home screenā sam, usually, natasha at times, checking in on her. )
[ there's more to be said about convincing him to stay, and it almost brings back the wash of guilt for having ever left her in the first place. but he knows that's not what she means. she only wants to have him around more, and the expression of that in itself, so freely from her lips has him nodding without another word.
a quiet huff of a laugh is all he responds with. he can stay more often. if it makes her happy, he'll delegate. there's room in his life to adjust for her. he has to, after all, after the last time he refused to do so resulted her in almost losing her life. there's no way he's letting that happen again.
the thought comes and goes in the space between two beats of music, and he allows her touch to his side to ground him in the moment. they can have the moments in between words like this, where he pulls her a little closer to lessen the chill and guide their linked hands to his neck so he can encircle her waist and sway a little closer together.
he often feels her gaze rather than sees it, knowing it by now to be the thoughtful way she holds such clarity in her eyes, a way of observing the world that escapes him sometimes, her thoughts a mystery sometimes that he can't help but be drawn to. his eyes lift to hers. it's not entirely surprising that she must feel a sense of distance with her own team. he's seen the way she brushes aside the notifications and knows that her relationship to the Avengers is different than his with his own teams.
( she catches the moment of sorrow that dampens his gaze, albeit briefly, as if a vice threatening to take hold, and he doesn't need to say it for her to recognize what visits him. it's only a beat before he's back with her, that she can feel those coils of tension wound so instinctively between his shoulder blades begin to lessen ā she doesn't hold it against him, his leaving. if she did, if there was any part of her that believed it wasn't to look after her, as he'd alleged, she'd be nothing more than a chilled ghost, ever-absent and silent.
wanda wasn't one to often or easily forgive, but she likes to think she knows his heart ā this heart, thudding so close to her own, something hot and wicked but brimming with goodness still in all its fleshy caverns.
when he shifts to wind his arms around her she all but melds against him, snaking her wrists to link at the nape of his neck and pressing to her toes just subtly, til foreheads touch and noses stumble in a brush, repeating the motion as his question drifts between them ā suspended a moment, clear her thoughts were running away from her. )
Natasha knows there's someone. ( pried out of her after an insistent string of questions, more like it, but her hesitance to share doesn't stem from any desire to keep him as some hidden thing. sharing so private a detail of her life meant talking, facing... everything that's happened, since they last did. and she's never been any good at that. given their resources, she wouldn't be surprised if natasha had done some digging of her own, if she'd known the answer before she'd even asked. )
I'd like them to. ( a pause, fingertips tracing along the column of his neck where they rest, fastening just the littlest bit tighter. ) Know you, meet you.
[ it helps when she lifts to brush her nose against his in an affectionate little gesture, and then again, in a way that has his eyes shutting briefly, chasing after her mouth before stopping in his path to let her speak.
it's important, what they're talking about. he wants to know more about how Natasha knows, how much she knows, or the string of questions around all the little details of every fact his brain demands as a force of nature, almost, but her touch along his neck derails those thoughts. a quiver having very little to do with the cold races from his pulse point down his spine. ]
Yeah. [ he nods, forehead tipping against hers. ] Yeah, of course. I'd like that. [ because he understands every bit of her need for privacy. she's opened up to him slowly over the past year, with every passing week and month bringing new details to fill in the outline of her. he's found himself engrossed in all of it, fascinated by the woman she is, that she's come to be, but he knows that it's a rare thing for her to open up like this. so he understands the gravity of her invitation, and he thinks it shows in the smile that tugs on his lips as kisses her again, longing to continue their rudely interrupted time under the mistletoe.
he's never been opposed to PDA, either, but as with most things, it's proving to be a little different with her. perhaps it's the territory she comes with, that so much of her life is in the public eye, having been an avenger, or that he knows she'd rather not be exposed like this. it's once he feels the kiss deepening, his own breathing growing heavier as his hand climbs from her waist to her back, spreading broad and warm on her skin above the bodice, that he manages to skid to a stop. he pulls away with a last lingering press of lips.
there's a hum against her mouth, a warm, promising tone, deep in his chest as he smiles at her. ]
( there's a gratitude that hums from her that he doesn't question her further, doesn't linger on the fact that only one of the many avengers knew that she was with someone in that way. though it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, as it was they had to pepper her phone with messages and voicemails to even get so much as a baseline response ā it's not for lack of caring, they know. she assures herself they know, much as she hopes he does.
there were so many layers to her that needed to be unfastened, read thoroughly and then read over again ā his quiet understanding is still something she's getting used to.
and he doesn't agree with her just to assuage the topic, just to quiet it. there's a promise there, much as there is with anything he does, a wholehearted intent that translates seamlessly into his mouth seeking hers once more. he'll feel her lips curve into it, her body respond by curving into a comma against his own, the smooth traveling of his palms against the small of her back. the hum she emits gives way to a hint of hunger that's come to find her, now that they're secluded, even if it doesn't quite belong here.
there's something within her that doesn't quite care, however, as the kiss breaks around a scattered breath. a tiny noise in complaint leaves her, and while she'll allow him to retract just slightly, the way his own hum dips into that very distinct octave only serves to goad her. )
Mm... ( a soft, honeyed drawlā playful, as if consideringā but the twine of her arms doesn't relent, winding one of her palms back to find the cradle of his jaw, tracing her thumb beneath the bow of his lower lip. ) When you've just gotten me all to yourself?
That'd be a shame, don't you think? ( she's testing the waters, searching his gaze as she taunts their brims together, only just barely, though he'll undoubtedly catch the suggestion laden on her tongue. )
[ he'll have more questions later and flesh out the details in a pre-briefing of actually meeting the avengers. as immune as he is to stage fright (he was a performer before he met Bruce), he knows that meeting them is akin to meeting her family. even with the distance, they must be the closest she has.
but the thought it chased as she closes the inches between them again, just as he was about to guide them away, and the quiet sound she makes laced with a need draws all his attention back to her, malleable with the playful lilt in her voice. a part of him is still stunned that this is all it takes from her--a look, a touch, and he's rethinking it all, mind quickly scanning back to the overview he took of this place when they first walked in. ]
Well--[ he agrees through a tone, a tip of his head into her small palm punctuated by the cool tips of her fingers. he catches her thumb with his mouth then, eyes down casting briefly as he purses his lip against her digit in a soft kiss.
she knows he's addicted to adrenaline, to risk, to the chase and to danger, as much as he justifies it with the cause, he's not above caving to any of this for their own pleasure, not above breaking the rules for their own fun. his smile widens as his gaze takes on a daring hint, and the softness of his lips give to the edge of teeth against the pad of her thumb. ]
It's a long drive, right? [ they move differently now, no longer drifting to the music, but with a kind of purpose as he kisses her again and again, taking them backwards, steadying hands finding her waist and wandering in their path as he steps forward and she steps back toward the service entrance below the winding stair.
his words barely surface over the kiss now, pressed into her mouth with the chase of his tongue and the mist between them. ] And I've been patient all night. Like you have, hm?
( their gazes align as he peppers a peck to the tip of her thumb, watching with pupils in full bloom as his features shift knowinglyā never will she witness the sight of want coloring him and not be intoxicated by it. it goes against everything he fights to keep in order, both in and out of the nitewing suit, but neither of them fared well when it came to temptation. it was their night, after all, and decidedly one they could spend how they chose; they didn't need to turn in so soon. )
Incredibly long. ( exaggerated with a pout, as if she needed to play it up. it's hardly more than twenty minutes to their hotel, and considering the time of night it'd likely be less, but right now there isn't any bit of her that's willing to part from him just yet. not when they've been so busy with parties, appearances, often finding allure more at the idea of sleep when they finally make it back.
she's transfixed by his mouth, how it stretches to give way to his smile that only grows as he begins to lead her backward, guiding her blindly and disrupting the wonder that sparks as to where exactly with every lapse of his lips with hers. she meets him where she can, nimble fingertips are already making work of the neat knot of the tie beneath his collar.
a hot puff of a breath greets him as he parts to speak, and it takes her a moment to find use of her tongue if not toying with his, eyes half-lidded, a concoction of thrill and amusement dancing between them. ) Very patient. We've been on our best behavior. ( a velveteen slur, the barest hint of dormant sokovian sneaking into her tone. a tug at the silk of his tie, haphazardly unfastened, just as teeth find purchase at the bed of his lip, nearly mimicking the motionā taking care to catch sharply at the last few moments before it slips free. oh, she's in a mood, tonight.
she hears the thud of his palm colliding with something: a door, she assumes, given the heat that greets her ankles, jacket slipping off one of her shoulders. )
[ this is the part heās fought hardest: the skill to delineate around his darker temptations, to pick out the moments he could allow to himself, to give in to what he truly desired. when it comes to her, heās struggled with it too. they both have, and thatās why having this night to themselves is so important.
he can't find a single reason why he shouldnāt be chasing after that cute little pout, pressing her back until sheās flush against the door and heās flush against her. his jacket shields her from the chill of the door plank, but it slides promisingly down her shoulder. heās only patient enough to let her words shape between them before wanting a taste of that alluring accent weaves around her syllables. it's an indication of sorts, as much as the sharpness of her teeth that catches the end of a taunting drag, speaking volumes about what she wants. a quick inhale hisses between his own teeth, before a huff of a laugh presses to her jaw and a nip of his own follows at her pulse point. ]
Glad you think so too, [ are the smothered words to the crook of her neck above the exposed shoulder. one hand searches for the lever of the door, as the other glides down her waist, smoothing along the satin and sweep of her hip. his digits curve under her thigh, encouraging her to lift to her toes, to let him press closer between her legs where her invites him in.
but his other hand comes to a stop as the handle barely gives and clinks in its locked position. ]
Fuck. [ frustration catches in his throat as he lifts his head up to look at her, eyes blown wide with desire as his own teeth catch his bottom lip and a resigned half shake of his head halts the sear under his skin. ]
( jacket or not, she can feel the frigidity of the metal cutting through the fabric, but she finds herself savoring the crisp sting in contrast to the travels of his palms ā hot to the touch, teeth where her pulse lurches up, as if evidence of what he did to her, how he unraveled her so easily. (does he know what he's done, feeding her this way? how insatiable she can be?) it runs rampant beneath her skin, a thunderous sound she can't help but to wonder if he can hear, taste, lingering so close.
his hold circles beneath her knee and her limbs respond without so much as a thought, hitching her leg up higher to his side, allowing him to slot between her thighs, exposing bare skin courtesy the slit in her dress. a tasteful divide that could hardly be seen as inappropriate, but undoubtedly chosen with him in mind ā that tendency of his to station his palm across her lap while he drove, how often one or the other tempted the touch higherĀ ā a seedling of want already planted before the night had begun.
lithe fingers lose themselves within the thick chocolate of his locks, as if to encourage his affections where he'd started them, and when the curse breaks between them he's hardly gotten the words out before she gives a brief flit of fingers at their side, red tendrils cloaking the latch if only for a moment before the lock shifts from its rightful place.
a tug at his hair in encouragement, lips parting to brush against his. )
I have a present. ( it's spoken like silk, low and sweet as she shrugs shrugs a shoulder, allowing the thin strap of her dress to drop, revealing only a hint of the matching lingerie that waits beneath.
she juts a thumb to press at his mouth before he can utter a word. ) Just a taste. ( she tuts, dragging his lip downward til it stumbles to his chin, trailing his throat with a wicked smile. ) You can unwrap it later.
[ she knows just how encouraging it is for him when her fingers tug just like that, sending little pinpricks racing along his skin to gather hungrily in his core, bursting with the husky oh that falls from his lips. itās a promise, a warning, maybe, in response to the gift she dangles right before his eyes as he pulls back just enough to look.
and look he does. the heat darkens in gaze as his mouth parts beneath her thumb, his throat working around a swallow when her touch blazes hot in its wake. the red lace peeks just above the draped satin of her dress and lays stark against her skin, outlining glimpses beneath the delicate pattern. sheāll feel his chuckle more than hear it, the rumble winding tight with his quickened pulse. she must know how he gets when she smiles at him like that, when she teases with that touch at his throat. heās sensitive there.
the latche releases with a twist of his wrist and he holds her weight against him with his grip under her leg. the door gives beneath them, but he only steps in enough to get to the other side, to push her back against its warm side until itās slamming shut again, perhaps with more force than needed. she can handle it. the lock clicks back into place, loud in the empty service corridor, lit only by dim floor lights.
this is what she wants, isnāt it? him, exploiting that slit, the satin of her dress pooling at his wrist as his touch carves up her thigh to greedily touch whatever skin he can reach? his other hand, lifting off the lock to delve into her hair, to gather the carefully styled locks into a tangled handful, a sharp tug so his mouth can find purchase at her clavicles. itās soft only briefly before a bite scrapes hard against its ridge. ]
( it's a swift motion that leaves her momentarily dazed, the unforgiving breath of winter exchanged for something warmer, darker, only able to make out his features given he's so close. the breath that'd been held at her throat with the motion is quickly dispelled with the force of his pinning her right back in place, only mirrored, now, inside where the cold couldn't reachā and, advantageously, all to himself. a bite to her collar, a fistful of her hair that exposes the heart of her throat as he tugs her head back into a lustful crane.
a low, sultry moan escapes her, seemingly accentuated given the unoccupied space. )
Unless you feel like sharing. ( she certainly didn'tā surely there was another means to access the room they've managed themselves into from the inside, but what was the probability someone would come wandering this way? the comment serves dual purposes, to goad that possessive urge of his, and the last bit of warning to be heeded, should they want to indulge their pleasures uninterrupted.
only, she's not particularly gifted at staying quiet, something he knows well of her, and while he mars at her collar with teeth and lips alike, she's making quick work of the upper buttons of his dress shirt. impatience tugs another free where it meets his sternum, snaking her palm in to feel the heated plane of his chest, upward to round his shoulder where nails find purchase.
with her weight lifted from the floor she's every bit at mercy of his pacing, but that doesn't mean she can't make her insistence known: heel digging at the back of his thigh, assisting the roll of her hips seeking out any bit of friction they can find. she stays hushed for what she can, clinging to a fraying self control. )
I don't, [ he answers, and she knows well that he never does, but it gets to him anyway, ricochets up the stakes just how she wants it to. an answering hum of his gets pressed to her skin, one that frays at the edges as the sound of her moan starts to take him apart at the seams.
but he's bad at heeding warnings. he's good at weighing and assessing them, at coming up with a plan, but to actually back off is not in his nature. it's possible for someone to stumble upon them, but they'll hear footsteps, or a door, or the lights will flicker on and give them a real warning, so for now, it only ups the urgency. they'll take advantage of what moments they have.
he easily follows the roll of her hips, his growing hardness pressing to her heat, that satin loosening the slide between them in a teasing, frustrating way. but her warm touch makes up for it, then the prickle of her nails making his voice hitch, and before her words are even out, his hand untangles from her hair and trails down the side of her neck, over the mount of a breast, down the curve of her waist before sliding beneath the satin. his fingers tease at the edge of the satin at her hip and follows it along the inner bend. ]
I know, [ he breathes, pulling back just enough to slide his hand between them, to cup her at her core. ] You've had this on all night--you must've been thinking about it, hm? How fucking crazy you'd make me when you finally told me?
( his palm leaves a blaze in its trail, large enough against her petite stature to bracket the width of her neck, find a perfect palm of her chest before finding home beneath the satin that brushes smooth against her skin, easy to manipulate, bunch, tear if he weren't careful. she could be honest, tell him the lingerie was intended for when they were tucked away in the solitude of their hotel suiteā it's not as if she intended for her appetite to spike the way it did, but she should've known better. him in a suit and tie, however common it was during the season, did the job on its own.
a sharp intake of a breath when he palms at the apex of her thighs, hips giving a responsive little rut at the touch, as if it only served to rile her further than grant her any gratification. with scarlet tendrils released she's able to steal a glance between them, the tanned expanse of his abdomen with the way his shirt billows and where his wrist disappears where she needs it most. )
I thought you might discover it for yourself.
( teeth latch onto the inner of her cheek, tipping her head to the side only for lips to brush his temple, sure he'll feel the heated breath curl against the shell of his ear. she can't help but to clutch wherever she touches, free hand finding a clasp at the forearm that divides them, an urging, clear-polished nails biting in as they so often did. )
And later you will, when I'm on top of you. ( eyes flutter closed, frustration kindling betwixt her hips. ) For all your impatience, you seem to enjoy making me wait.
[ he hums in response to her frustrated words, a warm, questioning thing, as if he's giving any real consideration to thinking through what they're doing. as if logical thought was any part of the decision to shut them into this dark room in the first place. his hand follows the shift of her hips, giving barely any satisfaction to the motion despite the grip of her own hand.
he can feel her nails biting through the thin fabric of the dress shirt, digging in the way he revels in, when they're entwined, that edge of pain making pleasure even sharper in its wake. now, the prickle sends anticipation up his spine, only made worse with the promise in her words, heated so close to his ear. ]
Sorry baby, I didn't know I was making it so bad for you.
[ he's teasing, and it's obvious in his tone, its false empathy drawn out, low and husky as he shifts, his free hand finding her thigh to support her. she'll hear his smile. the palm between her legs shifts so his fingers trace along her slit, feeling the heat of her through the thin lace of her panties, slowly whetting beneath his fingers as he drifts only gently for now. he can only imagine the lace, the bright red colour stark between her thighs, dark where they're damp, how gorgeous she'd look, deliciously perched over him, all that scarlet draped around her shoulders, the swell of her breasts as she draws heavy breaths. ]
You didn't say what you want. Is it--this? [ fingers trace a broad, lazy circle around her clit before zoning in to rock against her just the way she likes it, just enough pressure to give her something with tight little rubs. ]
Or... more? [ his teeth find the lobe of her ear, scraping along its outer shell, careful of her earrings as he pulls his hand away, only to slip it beneath her panties, no doubt stretching the delicate fabric as he parts her folds with his touch. his exhale catches a hint of a groan, feeling his digits slip against her hot core. ] Like this? Tell me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but this, the way she smiles, delicate mouth curled, that simple hummed tone laced with coyish playfulness, feels right. he shakes his head, a chuckle quietly tumbling into the narrowing space between them as heās drawn in by her hands. ]
You got me. [ his smile widens as he shrugs off the perfectly fitted suit jacket, reaching around to encircle her in it, in himāhis warmth, his cologne. he tugs her close by its lapels, then wraps his arms around her waist. his hands smooth against the buttery satin, and when he tips their foreheads together, his voice drops, lowering into intimacy just over the faraway music from the dining room. this conversation is meant for just the two of them, and he can feel the joy of showing her this part of him bleeding into his voice. ]
Iāve been introducing you to everyone all night. Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself now? [ and can she blame him for being impatient? for pressing his lips to her response, kissing away the words to taste her smile? ]
no subject
he chuckles, and within a beat she's shrouded in his jacket, enrobing her in a sudden balm of heat and that distinct scent she recognizes from burrowing into his chest time and time again. it all whirls around her, almost dizzying. she can't help but to wonder if this stirring, this teeming energy beneath her skin as he winds his hands about her waist, is something like that telltale feeling of coming home after a long day.
they melt into one another when foreheads graze, that smirk still written surely across her lips as she watches him from beneath her lashes, thumbs brushing at each side of his chest. can you blame me? he asks, only the part of her lips is stolen by his affections and the words are hushed to silence instead.
there's something promising to the kiss, in the knowing of their being alone, even if just tucked away from the bodies in the main dining hall. almost as if a tiny spark of a reminder that they would have the evening to themselves later, truly to themselves. her heart swells at the lingerie lying in wait in her bag back at the hotelā all of it, all of this, pulls a honeyed vibration of a hum from the bed of her throat. that very smile he wished to taste is what breaks the connection, but she doesn't stray too far, mouths still close enough that brims stumble when she finally speaks. )
Not even a little bit. ( punctuated by a sweet, brief kiss. ) The idea of you keeping me to yourself sounds much better, actually.
no subject
Good, weāre on the same page, then. [ she echos his thoughts, and he smiles beneath the sugary kiss pressed to his lips. she should know that this is all hers, and that she has no reason to ever believe her being with him could ever bleed the warmth in his eyes dry, or wash away the kindness at the core of his being. their careful nurturing of this connection now contributes to his happiness, and he believes he owes a lot of his growth over the last year or so to her.
he closes the distance between their lips again, chasing the taste of her as pulls her flush against him. sheās small and delicate against him, and her waist feels so trim, and he wonders for a countless time whether he can feel all that power, thrumming beneath her skin.
he deepens the kiss, tilts his head to fit their lips against each other. ]
Grayson! [ comes the distant call from the other room, and he wouldāve jumped if wasnāt so used to shock, so instead, he breaks their kiss and looks over his shoulder to a teammate grinning at him from the table just around the corner. ] Come back in or go get a room. Weāre freezing our asses off here!
[ he laughs apologetically, nodding with a wave before taking her hand in his so they can cross the threshold and shut the French doors behind them.
the terrace is bathed in the warm glow of the string lights, the strands of light wound around cedar garlands, and he can see the way it all sparkles in her eyes. thereās that distinct stillness that only accompanies snowfall, and a quiet jazzy tune plays over the speakers. here, they can see the city lights and smell the salty lick of the sea. ]
Sorry. [ for the heckling, for his coworkers. he smiles. ] Theyāre just happy for me. I think.
no subject
but he wraps his arms a bit more snug around her frame, pulls her in flush and the prick of the cold wafting in from the doors they linger near goes unnoticed with the heat that licks up her spine, rushes through her belly as his mouth parts and head cants for mouths to slot perfectly. a gentle, full sweep of her tongue, a brief taste before the little reality they'd slipped into is broken by the sound of his name, throats coated with champagne and the giddy sort of happiness that can be attributed to the time of year.
a sheepish smile finds her lips as they tuck in on one another, peeking over toward the group that looks on at them. there's an apologetic glint to her eye, pulling his jacket in a bit closer to her chest as he leads them to the glittering patio.
the brisk air greets them without abandon, here, a flush to her cheeks born not just from the cold, but the intimacy that hugs the evening thus far, how it feels as if they're running on stolen time, being able to just enjoy one another this way. )
Don't apologize. ( she's quick to hush it, hair rustling with the wind that carries through, stirring at the lights and carrying with it flecks of snow that manage their way in. ) I'm happy you have them. ( there should be a sadness there, even guilt, that she hasn't allowed herself to get as close to the avengers as he has with his team. a makeshift family of his own. the last thing she wants is for him to feel as if it's his responsibility to provide that to her, solely. someday, perhaps, that brazen, social little girl in sokovia will come back to her.
she drifts a bit from his side but finds his fingertips, stepping backward til it's only their digits that are linked together, teeth sinking into her teeth invitingly. a request without a request ā a: dance with me? she hopes he'll read when she gives a gentle tug. )
I almost feel bad, stealing you from them. ( a tilt of her crown, a playfulā ) Almost.
no subject
and he thinks she understands that, when she simply tells him she's happy for him, because for people like them, normal is a luxury. perhaps that's why he wants so badly to share it with her too, to indulge in the comfort of being just another person in a sea of people trying to do something together.
but the sentiment fades with a tip of his head as she playfully cants her own and steps away from him. ah. the mirth softens in his eyes as his grin widens and he relents. ]
Well, they get me most other nights, even if they don't fully know it, [ he says, as he shifts his hand to let her digits catch the edge of his his, where he follows the pull of her body and extends his arm just slightly. he doesn't dance often, but he's been an acrobat all his life, and he could never hold anything back when she looks at him like she does. he takes their hands to the side and finds her waist with his other, takes a step forward and glides her back with the soft tune drifting with the snow. ]
Thanks. For tonight. [ there's a closeness in his voice reserved for just her. ] You did so good, and I know you did it for me.
no subject
he follows her willingly, drawing them together as if it were just another night in a dim hotel room, and there's nothing to stop the way her smile radiates, pearled teeth glimmering while her palm steadies at his side, the opposite outstretched with his just enough to keep the jacket he'd wrapped around her shoulders in place. )
They do. ( an agreeing hum, but there isn't any bitterness there. he was the very crux of them, it wasn't difficult to see. more often the needs they catered to were far more pressing than her own, though there's no denying the closer they get, the more she craves the consistency of him, in any capacity. ) I'll have to start convincing you to stay more often.
( the music sets a lulling pace, something sweet, demanding nothing from them other than to breathe together, step together, be, admiring the way the cold begins to bite rouge into his cheeks. )
We'll consider it a raincheck. ( she stops herself from hushing the gratitudes, the apologies, and merely lets the appreciation linger a moment, following the guide of his steps with a thoughtless ease. ) Sooner or later I'll have to answer the calls. ( he's seen them riddling her home screenā sam, usually, natasha at times, checking in on her. )
It'll be easier, if you're there.
no subject
a quiet huff of a laugh is all he responds with. he can stay more often. if it makes her happy, he'll delegate. there's room in his life to adjust for her. he has to, after all, after the last time he refused to do so resulted her in almost losing her life. there's no way he's letting that happen again.
the thought comes and goes in the space between two beats of music, and he allows her touch to his side to ground him in the moment. they can have the moments in between words like this, where he pulls her a little closer to lessen the chill and guide their linked hands to his neck so he can encircle her waist and sway a little closer together.
he often feels her gaze rather than sees it, knowing it by now to be the thoughtful way she holds such clarity in her eyes, a way of observing the world that escapes him sometimes, her thoughts a mystery sometimes that he can't help but be drawn to. his eyes lift to hers. it's not entirely surprising that she must feel a sense of distance with her own team. he's seen the way she brushes aside the notifications and knows that her relationship to the Avengers is different than his with his own teams.
his gaze holds a question before he voices it. ]
Do they know about me? About us?
no subject
wanda wasn't one to often or easily forgive, but she likes to think she knows his heart ā this heart, thudding so close to her own, something hot and wicked but brimming with goodness still in all its fleshy caverns.
when he shifts to wind his arms around her she all but melds against him, snaking her wrists to link at the nape of his neck and pressing to her toes just subtly, til foreheads touch and noses stumble in a brush, repeating the motion as his question drifts between them ā suspended a moment, clear her thoughts were running away from her. )
Natasha knows there's someone. ( pried out of her after an insistent string of questions, more like it, but her hesitance to share doesn't stem from any desire to keep him as some hidden thing. sharing so private a detail of her life meant talking, facing... everything that's happened, since they last did. and she's never been any good at that. given their resources, she wouldn't be surprised if natasha had done some digging of her own, if she'd known the answer before she'd even asked. )
I'd like them to. ( a pause, fingertips tracing along the column of his neck where they rest, fastening just the littlest bit tighter. ) Know you, meet you.
Would you go with me?
no subject
it's important, what they're talking about. he wants to know more about how Natasha knows, how much she knows, or the string of questions around all the little details of every fact his brain demands as a force of nature, almost, but her touch along his neck derails those thoughts. a quiver having very little to do with the cold races from his pulse point down his spine. ]
Yeah. [ he nods, forehead tipping against hers. ] Yeah, of course. I'd like that. [ because he understands every bit of her need for privacy. she's opened up to him slowly over the past year, with every passing week and month bringing new details to fill in the outline of her. he's found himself engrossed in all of it, fascinated by the woman she is, that she's come to be, but he knows that it's a rare thing for her to open up like this. so he understands the gravity of her invitation, and he thinks it shows in the smile that tugs on his lips as kisses her again, longing to continue their rudely interrupted time under the mistletoe.
he's never been opposed to PDA, either, but as with most things, it's proving to be a little different with her. perhaps it's the territory she comes with, that so much of her life is in the public eye, having been an avenger, or that he knows she'd rather not be exposed like this. it's once he feels the kiss deepening, his own breathing growing heavier as his hand climbs from her waist to her back, spreading broad and warm on her skin above the bodice, that he manages to skid to a stop. he pulls away with a last lingering press of lips.
there's a hum against her mouth, a warm, promising tone, deep in his chest as he smiles at her. ]
Think we should get outta here?
no subject
there were so many layers to her that needed to be unfastened, read thoroughly and then read over again ā his quiet understanding is still something she's getting used to.
and he doesn't agree with her just to assuage the topic, just to quiet it. there's a promise there, much as there is with anything he does, a wholehearted intent that translates seamlessly into his mouth seeking hers once more. he'll feel her lips curve into it, her body respond by curving into a comma against his own, the smooth traveling of his palms against the small of her back. the hum she emits gives way to a hint of hunger that's come to find her, now that they're secluded, even if it doesn't quite belong here.
there's something within her that doesn't quite care, however, as the kiss breaks around a scattered breath. a tiny noise in complaint leaves her, and while she'll allow him to retract just slightly, the way his own hum dips into that very distinct octave only serves to goad her. )
Mm... ( a soft, honeyed drawlā playful, as if consideringā but the twine of her arms doesn't relent, winding one of her palms back to find the cradle of his jaw, tracing her thumb beneath the bow of his lower lip. ) When you've just gotten me all to yourself?
That'd be a shame, don't you think? ( she's testing the waters, searching his gaze as she taunts their brims together, only just barely, though he'll undoubtedly catch the suggestion laden on her tongue. )
no subject
but the thought it chased as she closes the inches between them again, just as he was about to guide them away, and the quiet sound she makes laced with a need draws all his attention back to her, malleable with the playful lilt in her voice. a part of him is still stunned that this is all it takes from her--a look, a touch, and he's rethinking it all, mind quickly scanning back to the overview he took of this place when they first walked in. ]
Well--[ he agrees through a tone, a tip of his head into her small palm punctuated by the cool tips of her fingers. he catches her thumb with his mouth then, eyes down casting briefly as he purses his lip against her digit in a soft kiss.
she knows he's addicted to adrenaline, to risk, to the chase and to danger, as much as he justifies it with the cause, he's not above caving to any of this for their own pleasure, not above breaking the rules for their own fun. his smile widens as his gaze takes on a daring hint, and the softness of his lips give to the edge of teeth against the pad of her thumb. ]
It's a long drive, right? [ they move differently now, no longer drifting to the music, but with a kind of purpose as he kisses her again and again, taking them backwards, steadying hands finding her waist and wandering in their path as he steps forward and she steps back toward the service entrance below the winding stair.
his words barely surface over the kiss now, pressed into her mouth with the chase of his tongue and the mist between them. ] And I've been patient all night. Like you have, hm?
no subject
Incredibly long. ( exaggerated with a pout, as if she needed to play it up. it's hardly more than twenty minutes to their hotel, and considering the time of night it'd likely be less, but right now there isn't any bit of her that's willing to part from him just yet. not when they've been so busy with parties, appearances, often finding allure more at the idea of sleep when they finally make it back.
she's transfixed by his mouth, how it stretches to give way to his smile that only grows as he begins to lead her backward, guiding her blindly and disrupting the wonder that sparks as to where exactly with every lapse of his lips with hers. she meets him where she can, nimble fingertips are already making work of the neat knot of the tie beneath his collar.
a hot puff of a breath greets him as he parts to speak, and it takes her a moment to find use of her tongue if not toying with his, eyes half-lidded, a concoction of thrill and amusement dancing between them. ) Very patient. We've been on our best behavior. ( a velveteen slur, the barest hint of dormant sokovian sneaking into her tone. a tug at the silk of his tie, haphazardly unfastened, just as teeth find purchase at the bed of his lip, nearly mimicking the motionā taking care to catch sharply at the last few moments before it slips free. oh, she's in a mood, tonight.
she hears the thud of his palm colliding with something: a door, she assumes, given the heat that greets her ankles, jacket slipping off one of her shoulders. )
We should change that.
no subject
he can't find a single reason why he shouldnāt be chasing after that cute little pout, pressing her back until sheās flush against the door and heās flush against her. his jacket shields her from the chill of the door plank, but it slides promisingly down her shoulder. heās only patient enough to let her words shape between them before wanting a taste of that alluring accent weaves around her syllables. it's an indication of sorts, as much as the sharpness of her teeth that catches the end of a taunting drag, speaking volumes about what she wants. a quick inhale hisses between his own teeth, before a huff of a laugh presses to her jaw and a nip of his own follows at her pulse point. ]
Glad you think so too, [ are the smothered words to the crook of her neck above the exposed shoulder. one hand searches for the lever of the door, as the other glides down her waist, smoothing along the satin and sweep of her hip. his digits curve under her thigh, encouraging her to lift to her toes, to let him press closer between her legs where her invites him in.
but his other hand comes to a stop as the handle barely gives and clinks in its locked position. ]
Fuck. [ frustration catches in his throat as he lifts his head up to look at her, eyes blown wide with desire as his own teeth catch his bottom lip and a resigned half shake of his head halts the sear under his skin. ]
Think you couldā¦?
no subject
his hold circles beneath her knee and her limbs respond without so much as a thought, hitching her leg up higher to his side, allowing him to slot between her thighs, exposing bare skin courtesy the slit in her dress. a tasteful divide that could hardly be seen as inappropriate, but undoubtedly chosen with him in mind ā that tendency of his to station his palm across her lap while he drove, how often one or the other tempted the touch higherĀ ā a seedling of want already planted before the night had begun.
lithe fingers lose themselves within the thick chocolate of his locks, as if to encourage his affections where he'd started them, and when the curse breaks between them he's hardly gotten the words out before she gives a brief flit of fingers at their side, red tendrils cloaking the latch if only for a moment before the lock shifts from its rightful place.
a tug at his hair in encouragement, lips parting to brush against his. )
I have a present. ( it's spoken like silk, low and sweet as she shrugs shrugs a shoulder, allowing the thin strap of her dress to drop, revealing only a hint of the matching lingerie that waits beneath.
she juts a thumb to press at his mouth before he can utter a word. ) Just a taste. ( she tuts, dragging his lip downward til it stumbles to his chin, trailing his throat with a wicked smile. ) You can unwrap it later.
no subject
and look he does. the heat darkens in gaze as his mouth parts beneath her thumb, his throat working around a swallow when her touch blazes hot in its wake. the red lace peeks just above the draped satin of her dress and lays stark against her skin, outlining glimpses beneath the delicate pattern. sheāll feel his chuckle more than hear it, the rumble winding tight with his quickened pulse. she must know how he gets when she smiles at him like that, when she teases with that touch at his throat. heās sensitive there.
the latche releases with a twist of his wrist and he holds her weight against him with his grip under her leg. the door gives beneath them, but he only steps in enough to get to the other side, to push her back against its warm side until itās slamming shut again, perhaps with more force than needed. she can handle it. the lock clicks back into place, loud in the empty service corridor, lit only by dim floor lights.
this is what she wants, isnāt it? him, exploiting that slit, the satin of her dress pooling at his wrist as his touch carves up her thigh to greedily touch whatever skin he can reach? his other hand, lifting off the lock to delve into her hair, to gather the carefully styled locks into a tangled handful, a sharp tug so his mouth can find purchase at her clavicles. itās soft only briefly before a bite scrapes hard against its ridge. ]
I donāt feel like waiting.
no subject
a low, sultry moan escapes her, seemingly accentuated given the unoccupied space. )
Unless you feel like sharing. ( she certainly didn'tā surely there was another means to access the room they've managed themselves into from the inside, but what was the probability someone would come wandering this way? the comment serves dual purposes, to goad that possessive urge of his, and the last bit of warning to be heeded, should they want to indulge their pleasures uninterrupted.
only, she's not particularly gifted at staying quiet, something he knows well of her, and while he mars at her collar with teeth and lips alike, she's making quick work of the upper buttons of his dress shirt. impatience tugs another free where it meets his sternum, snaking her palm in to feel the heated plane of his chest, upward to round his shoulder where nails find purchase.
with her weight lifted from the floor she's every bit at mercy of his pacing, but that doesn't mean she can't make her insistence known: heel digging at the back of his thigh, assisting the roll of her hips seeking out any bit of friction they can find. she stays hushed for what she can, clinging to a fraying self control. )
I need you.
no subject
but he's bad at heeding warnings. he's good at weighing and assessing them, at coming up with a plan, but to actually back off is not in his nature. it's possible for someone to stumble upon them, but they'll hear footsteps, or a door, or the lights will flicker on and give them a real warning, so for now, it only ups the urgency. they'll take advantage of what moments they have.
he easily follows the roll of her hips, his growing hardness pressing to her heat, that satin loosening the slide between them in a teasing, frustrating way. but her warm touch makes up for it, then the prickle of her nails making his voice hitch, and before her words are even out, his hand untangles from her hair and trails down the side of her neck, over the mount of a breast, down the curve of her waist before sliding beneath the satin. his fingers tease at the edge of the satin at her hip and follows it along the inner bend. ]
I know, [ he breathes, pulling back just enough to slide his hand between them, to cup her at her core. ] You've had this on all night--you must've been thinking about it, hm? How fucking crazy you'd make me when you finally told me?
no subject
a sharp intake of a breath when he palms at the apex of her thighs, hips giving a responsive little rut at the touch, as if it only served to rile her further than grant her any gratification. with scarlet tendrils released she's able to steal a glance between them, the tanned expanse of his abdomen with the way his shirt billows and where his wrist disappears where she needs it most. )
I thought you might discover it for yourself.
( teeth latch onto the inner of her cheek, tipping her head to the side only for lips to brush his temple, sure he'll feel the heated breath curl against the shell of his ear. she can't help but to clutch wherever she touches, free hand finding a clasp at the forearm that divides them, an urging, clear-polished nails biting in as they so often did. )
And later you will, when I'm on top of you. ( eyes flutter closed, frustration kindling betwixt her hips. ) For all your impatience, you seem to enjoy making me wait.
no subject
he can feel her nails biting through the thin fabric of the dress shirt, digging in the way he revels in, when they're entwined, that edge of pain making pleasure even sharper in its wake. now, the prickle sends anticipation up his spine, only made worse with the promise in her words, heated so close to his ear. ]
Sorry baby, I didn't know I was making it so bad for you.
[ he's teasing, and it's obvious in his tone, its false empathy drawn out, low and husky as he shifts, his free hand finding her thigh to support her. she'll hear his smile. the palm between her legs shifts so his fingers trace along her slit, feeling the heat of her through the thin lace of her panties, slowly whetting beneath his fingers as he drifts only gently for now. he can only imagine the lace, the bright red colour stark between her thighs, dark where they're damp, how gorgeous she'd look, deliciously perched over him, all that scarlet draped around her shoulders, the swell of her breasts as she draws heavy breaths. ]
You didn't say what you want. Is it--this? [ fingers trace a broad, lazy circle around her clit before zoning in to rock against her just the way she likes it, just enough pressure to give her something with tight little rubs. ]
Or... more? [ his teeth find the lobe of her ear, scraping along its outer shell, careful of her earrings as he pulls his hand away, only to slip it beneath her panties, no doubt stretching the delicate fabric as he parts her folds with his touch. his exhale catches a hint of a groan, feeling his digits slip against her hot core. ] Like this? Tell me.