kick_ass_curls | locked to ayeayecap

"We will," he says, and it actually sounds like he means it. He's faced seemingly insurmountable odds before and made it out alive. Never mind that this is on a larger scale. He rubs Tasha's back, kisses her temple. "It'll be ugly, but we'll do it."

Tasha isn't the way many people get to see her right now. The Black Widow? She'd be just as zealously proclaiming their ability to win as Bucky is. Hell, she'd be out there kicking ass already. Natasha, however? Not so much. Not tonight.

His confidence is enough to make her snap out of it, at least slightly. "Yeah. We will." She agrees before he kisses her temple. Tasha quickly turns her head, pressing her lips on his. There's no near violent desperation to it this time. It's tender, comforting. It's what she needs right now and she hopes he feels the same way. "Thank you for being brave when I'm not."

He kisses back, fingers threading through her hair. This time, the kiss does feel different, and he hopes she can sense his gratitude.

Bucky doesn’t feel brave. He feels confused and, yeah, scared. But he’s also an optimist by nature, and can’t believe this won’t work out.

Now that he has permission to kiss her (and isn’t being all but assaulted), he closes the distance between them to kiss her again.

Natasha has kissed a lot of men in a lot of different situations. She knows a thing or two about the level of sincerity in such a simple action. She knows, that's what names him different. Better.

Even if he's not brave, the attitude is enough to make her less afraid and more like her usual confident self. So much so that she get a little more aggressive, wrapping her fingers over his shoulders so she can pull herself into his lap. "You're still gonna stay with me tonight, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." There's no question about it. They need each other right now. And, whether he'll admit it or not, his feelings for her run deep. So, he wraps his arms around her, resting his head against her bosom.

She does need him, more than she realized until today. There was a time she told herself she thought he was nothing special, but that was never true. Bucky's taken care of her. Little things like making sure she got home safe after way too much vodka and now...this.

She wraps her arms around him in turn, feeling his breathing against her chest, his pulse next to her skin. She swallows hard, that fear of what they'll have to face soon very real. But it's not as scary with him there.

"For what it's worth," Natasha whispers after a long while of silence. "There's no one else I'd rather survive the end of the world with than you."

He looks at her a long moment before catching her lips with his again. The woman always manages to surprise him, to amaze him with even the most mundane of things, and he wonders if this is what love is like. He's pretty sure he's never been in love before, but that's mostly his own fault. Back in the day, he went through girls the way a car goes through gas. He'd never given himself the chance to fall in love. But he and Natasha have been working in close quarters for a while now. He hasn't had the chance to spurn her, and, more importantly, he hasn't wanted to. So, if there's a neediness there, a hunger that wasn't there the first few times they kissed, it's because he's been starved for this kind of affection.

She's full of surprises, so much so that Tasha shocks herself sometimes. Like now. She never would have chosen him, but here he is. And in spite of how things started, she wants him there with her.

It's not about love or need or even infatuation. Not yet, but if they keep down this road it will be soon enough. If they don't end up dead before they get the chance.

All Tasha knows right now is he makes her better. He makes her feel again and that's something that caught her completely off guard. That excitement is clear in the way she kisses him, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull her body that much closer to his. Natasha's heart if racing, her hands are shaking and she doesn't even try to hide it from him.

He feels the trembling in her hands and takes them in his own steady hands. Her heart's racing like crazy, in a way he hasn't noticed it race outside of battle. Although perhaps he hasn't gotten close enough to her outside of fights to get the chance to see her like this. Or maybe she's just really good at faking it, or, perhaps she really is just that collected most of the time. No matter what the case, he knows it's got to be something rare.

"Hey," he reassures with a small grin. "It's okay."

She's human. The Black Widow may be a highly skilled professional when it comes to her job, but that doesn't make her any less of a person. In fact that training she had when she was younger left her far more vulnerable than she'll ever admit to anyone. Natasha is impeccable at hiding what she's really feeling when she needs to.

But right now Tasha feels she doesn't have to do that. "Stop lying." She nips at his lip, teasing though they both know things are anything but OK. At least they aren't outside. In here, just the two of them...it might be okay.

His smile widens as he shakes his head. He knows she thinks he means in general, but that's not the case at all. "I meant this." He looks down at their joined hands, giving hers a squeeze. He means this closeness. The woman would kill without the bat of a lash, but now that they're getting intimate, she seems absolutely terrified. Or maybe it's risidual from the day they've had, and this is the straw breaking the camel's back. "It's okay," he repeats, meeting her eyes in hopes she's catching his meaning.

She does catch his meaning, and that's all it takes for her to relax and simply enjoy the moment. For all she knows it could be the last chance she has with him if the damned world starts ending any second. Natasha doesn't like that idea of losing someone she gives a damn about right when she started to realize she gave a damn about him. She nods before pressing her lips back on his, using the weight of her body to push him down.

"It's okay." Tasha repeats back to him.

He leans back on the couch, allowing her to rest atop him. He's doing a good job of hiding the fact that he's just as fucking scared as she is. Intimacy is just as foreign to him as it is to her; he was quite the heartbreaker back in the day, and while he had a lot of experience with women, intimacy was one thing he did not have experience with. Because it was a whole lot easier and a whole lot less scary to not let anyone close. It's never meant anything to him before. Sex is supposed to be fun; it isn't supposed to be scary. But James Barnes, sexual libertine, feels like he's about to lose his virginity.

As he looks up at her, a hint of vulnerability shows through on his face, and it's strange to think that just a moment ago, he was the one comforting her. He leans up, closing the distance between their lips again.

Natasha's sexual exploits began a lot younger than they should have, but she deals with it just like she deals with everything. That is to say...she doesn't. She pushes aside the guilt, the regrets, the shame of what she did in her past and pretends nothing bothers her about it. The violence, the manipulation, the seduction, she tells herself they don't make her a bad person.

But they do. Or they did. She's trying to change that, wipe that ledger a little bit cleaner each day. Some days are better than others.

She shivers at the kiss, wrapping her fingers around the back his neck more gently that she would someone else. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to." Natasha whispers between soft kisses. She wants to, so badly. She wants to feel alive and unafraid for what could be the last time in her life and she wants it to be with him, but it's clear something's bothering him.

His eyes close for a moment, and when they open again, it's with determination. "I want to. Do you?”

She doesn't say a word, instead deepening the kiss to to point she may lose track of where her lips and tongue end and his begin, pouring all the intensity she has left in her into it.

If he's in anyway unclear on her answer to his question, it's a resounding yes.

"Mm!" It's not an unpleasantly surprised sound like when they were at the diner, and it ends in a sigh. His fingers thread through her hair, pulling her closer still, free hand resting on her lower back. That hand, too, pulls her closer, enough for their hips to connect, and he sighs again. That, in turn, is his own answer.

A low gravelly moan forces it's way from her when their hips press together, desires she's been pushing aside for too long surfacing again. Natasha shifts her weight, varying the pressure from her body in motions that rival a dancers grace, subtly letting him know exactly what she wants from him once they dispense with these clothes.

Of course there's nothing subtle about the way she's biting at his lower lip, her growing need becoming clear with every nip of her teeth.

He smirks against her lips at that moan, amused that she's so aroused already. Of course, he himself is already aroused- something Natasha will feel distinctly with the next upward thrust of his hips. The hand on her back travels lower to feel her ass.

Oh, she can tell. There's another encouraging moan when he moves his hand lower, followed by Natasha letting out a chuckle that sounds nearly victorious. "Careful." She pulls her lips away while pressing her body more tightly against him, her voice a teasing whisper. "A girl will starting thinking you have intentions if you keep this up."

He damn well better have intentions, because she does.

That hand gives her ass a squeeze as he smirks up at her. "And if I do have intentions?"

A low, purr of encouragement comes out of her mouth instead of words in response. She presses her hips even tighter to him than he's already pushing her with his hand, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Then I'd say you'd better make good on those intentions before the world ends and you don't have the chance."

He frowns, looking at her a long moment. "The world isn't ending, Tasha." But still, he wants it, too. He just doesn't like the idea that this might not be happening right now if Natasha didn't think the world was about to end.

"Yanno, I think this would be a lot easier without clothes," he remarks, snapped out of his thoughts by the grinding of her hips.

It's not about a last desperate attempt to get laid. It's the complete opposite in fact. Sometimes it takes the thought of losing someone you care about to make you brave enough to show them they really matter to you. She may tease him, that kiss earlier that day for example, but deep down she cares about him more than most. The fact he got Natasha to break down those walls speaks volumes about her respect for him.

She doesn't say that, of course.

"And with more space to spread out." Tasha deliberately leans her body against his before sliding up a bit for just the right amount of friction. She reaches out her hand, pointing down the hall. "You wanna see my bedroom?" She grins, using a similar tone of voice to the one he's using, just to tease him.

He finally grins again. "I would." His grin becomes mischievous as he picks her up, one leg on either side of him.

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