( one would think she's familiarized herself with words enough that they'd so easily find her, but as much as they cooperate with a glaring screen, they're only heavy and unwilling when delivered by tongue. what do you need?what do you want? questions she doesn't know what to do with, because it comes resoundingly down to: everything and nothing all at once. she looks back a moment as they stand in her kitchen, and they've been here before, only now it's a different dance. )
I wish I knew.
( it's only a breath, toneless and yearning β for what, she can't say. he'd been the first to cross that barrier before, it only seems fair to even the odds.
she's padding closer, teeth already habitually snared into her lips, and eyes and crown are ducking once she's just before him, gathering his hand digit by digit, using it this time to lure him closer to her, rather than merely into the heart of her place. )
Just you being here isβ ( a slight shrug, their fronts flirting together. ) It helps.
I know you're still not exactly accustomed to a bed, but... ( the slow bloom of a half-grin finds her lips, and it's an invitation without bluntly saying so, nodding back towards the darkened entry to a bedroom that's familiar to them both. )
With a real mattress and everything? You're spoiling me rotten. ( he leans in closer where they're teetering into each others' personal space, now pressing his lips to the top of her head, mouth against her hair while he squeezes her hand; an acknowledgment, an acceptance.
it's an easy thing, then, to set the glass of water aside and follow her back into the bedroom. they've been here before — karen leading the way as ever — but this time there's less of that heated urgency to it. he lingers and pauses in the bedroom doorway to take it in, its increasingly familiar angles, her stacks of books and paperwork, a laptop set aside on a chair. and then bucky makes himself at home: sits down on the edge of the bed, peels out of his jeans and kicks them aside, and he remembers that she likes the left side of the bed, so he adjusts accordingly.
it should, probably, be scarier than it is: to start settling into this domestic routine. to know these things about each other. but after literal decades being untethered from anyone on this planet still knowing james barnes, and his oldest friend having vanished, it's just nice to be seen. so he takes the right side and sprawls right into karen's bed, cut down to just a t-shirt and boxers and that familiar ever-present glint of dogtags at his neck. )
I'll invest in one someday. A bed, I mean. ( if only so he has somewhere to take her, the next time she winds up in his sad shell of an apartment. ) So I'm not just taking advantage of your hospitality every time.
( there's a quirk at the corner of his mouth, a hint of humour but also that ongoing promise that this isn't a one-off. every time. )
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I wish I knew.
( it's only a breath, toneless and yearning β for what, she can't say. he'd been the first to cross that barrier before, it only seems fair to even the odds.
she's padding closer, teeth already habitually snared into her lips, and eyes and crown are ducking once she's just before him, gathering his hand digit by digit, using it this time to lure him closer to her, rather than merely into the heart of her place. )
Just you being here isβ ( a slight shrug, their fronts flirting together. ) It helps.
I know you're still not exactly accustomed to a bed, but... ( the slow bloom of a half-grin finds her lips, and it's an invitation without bluntly saying so, nodding back towards the darkened entry to a bedroom that's familiar to them both. )
no subject
it's an easy thing, then, to set the glass of water aside and follow her back into the bedroom. they've been here before — karen leading the way as ever — but this time there's less of that heated urgency to it. he lingers and pauses in the bedroom doorway to take it in, its increasingly familiar angles, her stacks of books and paperwork, a laptop set aside on a chair. and then bucky makes himself at home: sits down on the edge of the bed, peels out of his jeans and kicks them aside, and he remembers that she likes the left side of the bed, so he adjusts accordingly.
it should, probably, be scarier than it is: to start settling into this domestic routine. to know these things about each other. but after literal decades being untethered from anyone on this planet still knowing james barnes, and his oldest friend having vanished, it's just nice to be seen. so he takes the right side and sprawls right into karen's bed, cut down to just a t-shirt and boxers and that familiar ever-present glint of dogtags at his neck. )
I'll invest in one someday. A bed, I mean. ( if only so he has somewhere to take her, the next time she winds up in his sad shell of an apartment. ) So I'm not just taking advantage of your hospitality every time.
( there's a quirk at the corner of his mouth, a hint of humour but also that ongoing promise that this isn't a one-off. every time. )