Natasha's not expecting him to grab her waist like that, but she is absolutely not opposed to it. Her heartbeat spikes as she tips her head to listen to what he whispers in her ear. As he leans back, her eyes meet his, her mouth curling into a smirk as the flush rises in his cheeks.
Reaching up, her fingertips run back along the line of his cheekbone. "We better check out, then," she agrees. But before he can go, she moves her arm around his shoulder. Tugging him in, she leans up so she can murmur, "any time you want to try my mouth, just say the word."
She punctuates the response with a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder with a smile as she slips around him.
He looks at her with eyes like he's shocked at the comment. It punches him right in the gut in a way that nothing really quite had. Prior to this it had been soft things, kisses, cuddles and memories of a little more but that was hot and gorgeous. He pushes the thought out of his gut enough to go to the check out and pay, an arm around Natasha's waist as they wait and pay before they leave.
"You're gonna kill me with that..." he admits once they're out the store glancing over at her with a grin. Honestly though, he wants to make it special though. When they're ready. The idea is slowly fleeting though after that comment in a way that makes him feel like a 16 year old.
"We might have to go lingerie shopping one of the days, I hear the French make very nice things."
She can see that her reply surprised him, and she can't help but chuckle a little at the look on his face. Having him back in her life in any way is an unexpected boon. She's not in a rush to take him in any particular direction, but she can't help flirting with him when he leaves her an opening like that. She's positive he won't hold it against her.
She leans against him as they wait in line, paying with cash before they make their way out of the store. Looking at the number of bags they now have between them, she's not entirely convinced they'll all fit into the storage compartment on the bike. They'll figure out a way to make it work.
"The French do make very nice things," she agrees. "And you certainly seemed to like the lingerie I had on that time you saw me dancing." It's a vague enough comment to slip away under their cover, though she's not sure he'll remember that undercover mission at the strip club in Moscow. "Anywhere else you want to stop before we head back?"
He might hold it against her, although it would be in a very different way.
When she asks if there's anything else he wants to do he shakes his head thinking right on the same page as she is. They already have more then enough things then they're going to be able to do on the bike.
"I was serious about that silky garment shopping for another day -- I feel like taking cheese and fruit into those shops are frowned upon," he adds smiling over at her as he leads her back towards the bike. "Maybe tomorrow we could try out the park or something too? But I think we need to get this stuff into the refrigerator."
His mind dances on the words of her dancing, he doesn't have quite the full bits of that memory, just some of the stuff in the hotel that night.
"I don't remember that but I feel like you could maybe recreate the whole idea for my memory..."
"Some of them give you snacks and champagne while you try things on," Natasha informs him. Though she can't say with confidence that's true in the town they're staying in, the odds are decent enough if they can find a high end lingerie store. Though she doesn't do it often, she does like to indulge. And she certainly doesn't mind letting him get an eyeful while she's at it.
She props open the storage compartment on the bike and frowns thoughtfully down at it. This is going to be like a game of Jenga. "We should definitely get these back to the apartment, but the park tomorrow sounds good."
With a grin, she reaches out to hand him some of the bags she's carrying so she can start fitting their purchases into the compartment. "Are you asking me to dance for you, James?"
He starts to help her put the bags in like a jigsaw puzzle, adjusting a few turns before they just manage to get everything in, but it's a good thing they bought nothing else.
"So let me get this straight," he speaks as they do it, "You get to go play with fancy silky things and drink bubbly, French women must be spoiled."
It's an obvious joke as he smiles at her handing her the helmet for the bike before slipping his own on. He waits til she's got her arms around him on the bike and they're settled before brining up the dancing comment again.
"I thought you wanted me to ask you for things I wanted, Cherie?" he says before taking off on the bike, not waiting for an answer. He's still a little gun shy of the whole flirting thing and it's obvious.
Natasha takes a moment to admire their handiwork once all their purchases are meticulously crammed into the storage compartment. It's weirdly just as satisfying as a successful stakeout. She takes the helmet from him with a smile, pulling it onto her head as she answers him. "Oh, not just French women."
After securing the helmet strap, she climbs on the bike after him. Her chin leans on his shoulder as she listens to his question, and she chuckles when he takes off before she can answer. Her arms give his mid-section an affectionate squeeze.
She lets him navigate and enjoys the view from the back of the bike. The smell of salt is in the air, so she knows the ocean is nearby, but she can't see it. Maybe she'll map out a coastal route so they can drive it later and watch the sunset. When they arrive back at the apartment, she runs her hands up his sides before climbing off the bike.
"For the record," she says as she opens the storage to start undoing their hard work by handing him bags, "I'll dance for you any day."
The holds out the metal arm letting her hang multiple bags from it like a hook. It's convenient in that way and he just smiles and blushes a little at the offer of the dance shaking his head fondly.
"Did you always make me blush like this, Nat? Or is it a new occurrence?" He asks curiously before taking the bags she'd given him up to the apartment and taking them out on the counter carefully unpacking them putting away the ones that needed to be cooled in the fridge.
He can hardly look at her when she asks the question, mind still lost a little bit in the offer of silky panties and dances. It's not the bad kind of overwhelming to his brain, but overwhelming none the less.
That is a convenient use for the metal arm. Natasha keeps a few to carry herself to avoid any prying eyes curious about how much he's carrying. She smiles at him and reaches up to pat his cheek at his question. "Sometimes. Depends on the day."
She leaves him to his thoughts once they're in the apartment, content in the quiet as she helps to put away the items that don't need to be refrigerated. Once they're done, she hops up to sit on the counter and helps herself to one of the raspberries.
"Here, catch," she says as she mimes throwing one of the berries toward him to catch in his mouth.
Luckily he has good reaction instincts but she knows that. He leans in to catch it in his mouth and then chews before grinning at her.
"Taste just as good as I remember. Maybe tomorrow we can pick up some vanilla ice cream to put them on," it's a memory of something they used to do back in the day long ago. A sweet treat in the hot summer months.
He knows he had thoughts when they were eating breakfast about things he wanted to tell her, not happy memories, but at this point they're far gone, instead lost in the flirting. Maybe that was okay, maybe everything didn't have to be all heavy and serious all the time.
He pulls a peach out of the bag and goes to wash it, getting out a knife to cut it. He looks at her while he's doing it, not even paying attention to the peach he's holding in his metal hand. It's a display of his dexterity, his precision in knife work.
"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you some of this, you like peaches don't you?" he asks curiously.
Natasha rewards him with a little golf clap after he successfully catches the raspberry in his mouth. Some people would have needed more of a heads up to complete the catch successfully. But as always she has faith in his reflexes. "That sounds good to me," she answers when he suggests picking up some ice cream.
It's nice to be able to spend time with him, whether they're delving into the deep end or keeping it light. Part of her had wondered idly over the years what it would be like if she ever found him. If they'd know how to navigate each other without the pressure of secrecy. There's differences, of course. But differences that she likes.
Her head turns to watch with a half smile as he works on the peach, and one of her brows arches at the offer. She's 100% sure he doesn't realize how suggestive it sounds. But it still doesn't stop her from countering, "how about you come over here and feed it to me?"
He preens a little bit, smiling when she claps for him. Look, he doesn't know why he feels that way he just does, and it's nice and he's going to go with it. Besides how can you argue with attention from someone who's so pretty.
He has absolutely no idea how suggestive it sounds. He just thought that a peach sounded nice, although the idea of feeding her a little bit sounds super nice. That is something they've done a little bit and the touch of her lips on his fingers were always a welcome reward. He closes the gap and brings a piece to her lips to offer her. Once she takes it he takes a slice for himself to eat eyes closing as he concentrates on the flavor.
Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on his arm as she accepts the bite of peach. Her lips brush against his fingertips. She lets her hand run down the length of his arm as she leans back against the cabinet. Once she's swallowed her bite, she nods her head. "You can tell it's fresh. Good choice."
Maybe they'll just have to forego real meals while they're in France in favor of grazing on fruit, cheese and bread. Though it does seem like it'd be a shame to come to a coastal town and not try seafood.
"Want to take a ride along the water front later? We can watch the sunset."
When she starts to speak he brings a finger to her lips. "Shh..." he says quietly as he savors the peach for a moment later before opening his eyes with a smile.
"You didn't ask me how I liked it." He says looking at her with very serious eyes. It's clear he had some line, or something stuck in his head that he was absolutely wanting so say but was waiting for Natasha to queue it up for him. It's a new idea but not something too crazy given his weird programing need to look for certain permission in things.
She gives him a look that clearly says did you just shush me? You're lucky I'm into you. When he moves his finger away, she playfully snaps her teeth at him.
Natasha doesn't mind these moments where he seems to need permission to take another step. It's all part of navigating the structure in his brain, in making his own safe spaces and pathways. She figures he'll eventually reach a point where he knows what his own boundaries look like and will feel more comfortable navigating them. There are worse places to start than verbal consent.
With a smile that's all fond amusement, she answers, "well, I'd hate to be rude. How did you like the peach, James?"
He's on a kick. It's obvious as the way he smirks at her once she asks him the proper question. His hand moves up to her cheek to cup it thumb stroking at it fondly just looking at her like she's his whole world. In reality, in this moment where he doesn't even quite know who he is yet, she is.
"It taste delicious, just like something else I've had in my life." It's a statement that makes him blush even saying it but he's going to go through with this and he slips those hands back down to her waist and lifts her easily to set her up on the counter and step between her legs.
The corner of her mouth twitches a little, making it apparent that she's trying not to smile. Between the blush and the deliberate way he's choosing his words, she can tell he's working his way up to try a line on her. Which is oddly cute. She settles easily onto the countertop and gives him a squeeze with her knees when he moves between her legs.
"Hmm," she muses, leaning forward to idly drape her arms around his shoulders. "Nectarines?"
He leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips, his hands sliding down her thighs stroking them lazily along her tight jeans as she squeezes him. Yeah, that feels nice, this is a good place for him, he likes it here between her legs.
"Mmm. I don't think that's quite right," he says with a smirk once the kiss breaks. "I seem to remember it's something I liked eating much more then that, you know."
With his hair up, her fingertips lightly trace his hairline at the back of his neck as she returns his kiss. The smile finally appears on her lips as she feels his hands running over her thighs.
"More than nectarines, hmm?" Natasha feigns a thoughtful look, as if she's giving serious consideration to what he might be hinting at. Leaning in, she angles her head so she can whisper to him, her lips brushing against his ear. "Must be whipped cream."
He really thinks about going for the oral sex comment, he does. But he chickens out in the end with her lips against his ear and just groans gently. God, it feels good, she feels good. He wants to feel the weight of her against him and just give in each and every way possible that he can.
"Probably somethin' like that.." he says breathy as he pulls back smiling at her. "You wanna make out for a while before we decide what we're gonna do next?"
She gives him a knowing look when he pulls back to smile at her. There's a mischievous gleam in her eye, but it's clear she's not going to call him on it. It's just a shared moment where they're both thinking the same thing. The fact that they can have a moment like this at all after all these years feels like a blessing.
"Well," she muses, leaning in to drop a kiss on his mouth. "You did promise me we would make out like teenagers." She gives his lower lip a gentle nip, then kisses his jaw. "I'm very interested in making good on that promise."
He kisses her slow, long, drawn out once she gets her mouth on him. Grinning as his hands guide her legs around his waist helping her cling to him so that he can lift her to take back to the bed across the small apartment.
"I love the idea of that, I'm pretty sure that it is something I still have confidence in. The rest of it, not so sure..." he says laying her out on the bed and climbing on top of her with a grin looking down at him.
Agreeably, she wraps her legs around him as he carries her to the bedroom, her mouth trailing idly along his jawline as he navigates. "You just keep letting me know where you're at," she responds with a smile as he climbs over her. There's no wrong timeline or angle of approach. Her hands settle at his waist for a moment before she runs them slowly up along his back, enjoying the way the familiar planes of his muscles feel through his shirt.
She can't help but chuckle a little at the question. "We talked about how you could picture things you wanted to do with me, but you couldn't remember doing them before. So you knew you'd done them, but you didn't have the context for when. And how I'd never been with someone who was with me instead of a cover." Her mouth lilts into a little smirk. "I believe you used the term muddlin', so it's safe to say there were some nerves."
His hand is cupping her cheek, stroking a thumb over it as she tells him these things. He closes his eyes for just a moment, listening to it before he huffs out a laugh, opening his eyes and shaking his head.
"And now I remember those other times, but not you..." he says and bites the bottom of his lip, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry about that, Natalia..." he wants to remember her. He can't really believe he can't, how could he have touched, kissed, and loved the most beautiful women in existence and come out of it nothing. It's not fair to either of them.
"You never have to apologize for that," Natasha counters without missing a beat. One of her hands runs over the back of his neck, idly tracing along his hairline. "Both of us have spent too much time used as weapons by other people. I meant it when I said any way you are is exactly enough for me." She can't help but smile a little. "Besides, you always find your way back to me."
No matter how big the obstacle. If they could both weather the years apart, what was a hole in his memory by comparison?
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Reaching up, her fingertips run back along the line of his cheekbone. "We better check out, then," she agrees. But before he can go, she moves her arm around his shoulder. Tugging him in, she leans up so she can murmur, "any time you want to try my mouth, just say the word."
She punctuates the response with a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder with a smile as she slips around him.
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"You're gonna kill me with that..." he admits once they're out the store glancing over at her with a grin. Honestly though, he wants to make it special though. When they're ready. The idea is slowly fleeting though after that comment in a way that makes him feel like a 16 year old.
"We might have to go lingerie shopping one of the days, I hear the French make very nice things."
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She leans against him as they wait in line, paying with cash before they make their way out of the store. Looking at the number of bags they now have between them, she's not entirely convinced they'll all fit into the storage compartment on the bike. They'll figure out a way to make it work.
"The French do make very nice things," she agrees. "And you certainly seemed to like the lingerie I had on that time you saw me dancing." It's a vague enough comment to slip away under their cover, though she's not sure he'll remember that undercover mission at the strip club in Moscow. "Anywhere else you want to stop before we head back?"
He might hold it against her, although it would be in a very different way.
"I was serious about that silky garment shopping for another day -- I feel like taking cheese and fruit into those shops are frowned upon," he adds smiling over at her as he leads her back towards the bike. "Maybe tomorrow we could try out the park or something too? But I think we need to get this stuff into the refrigerator."
His mind dances on the words of her dancing, he doesn't have quite the full bits of that memory, just some of the stuff in the hotel that night.
"I don't remember that but I feel like you could maybe recreate the whole idea for my memory..."
ahaha just literally instead of figuratively
She props open the storage compartment on the bike and frowns thoughtfully down at it. This is going to be like a game of Jenga. "We should definitely get these back to the apartment, but the park tomorrow sounds good."
With a grin, she reaches out to hand him some of the bags she's carrying so she can start fitting their purchases into the compartment. "Are you asking me to dance for you, James?"
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"So let me get this straight," he speaks as they do it, "You get to go play with fancy silky things and drink bubbly, French women must be spoiled."
It's an obvious joke as he smiles at her handing her the helmet for the bike before slipping his own on. He waits til she's got her arms around him on the bike and they're settled before brining up the dancing comment again.
"I thought you wanted me to ask you for things I wanted, Cherie?" he says before taking off on the bike, not waiting for an answer. He's still a little gun shy of the whole flirting thing and it's obvious.
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After securing the helmet strap, she climbs on the bike after him. Her chin leans on his shoulder as she listens to his question, and she chuckles when he takes off before she can answer. Her arms give his mid-section an affectionate squeeze.
She lets him navigate and enjoys the view from the back of the bike. The smell of salt is in the air, so she knows the ocean is nearby, but she can't see it. Maybe she'll map out a coastal route so they can drive it later and watch the sunset. When they arrive back at the apartment, she runs her hands up his sides before climbing off the bike.
"For the record," she says as she opens the storage to start undoing their hard work by handing him bags, "I'll dance for you any day."
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"Did you always make me blush like this, Nat? Or is it a new occurrence?" He asks curiously before taking the bags she'd given him up to the apartment and taking them out on the counter carefully unpacking them putting away the ones that needed to be cooled in the fridge.
He can hardly look at her when she asks the question, mind still lost a little bit in the offer of silky panties and dances. It's not the bad kind of overwhelming to his brain, but overwhelming none the less.
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She leaves him to his thoughts once they're in the apartment, content in the quiet as she helps to put away the items that don't need to be refrigerated. Once they're done, she hops up to sit on the counter and helps herself to one of the raspberries.
"Here, catch," she says as she mimes throwing one of the berries toward him to catch in his mouth.
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"Taste just as good as I remember. Maybe tomorrow we can pick up some vanilla ice cream to put them on," it's a memory of something they used to do back in the day long ago. A sweet treat in the hot summer months.
He knows he had thoughts when they were eating breakfast about things he wanted to tell her, not happy memories, but at this point they're far gone, instead lost in the flirting. Maybe that was okay, maybe everything didn't have to be all heavy and serious all the time.
He pulls a peach out of the bag and goes to wash it, getting out a knife to cut it. He looks at her while he's doing it, not even paying attention to the peach he's holding in his metal hand. It's a display of his dexterity, his precision in knife work.
"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you some of this, you like peaches don't you?" he asks curiously.
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It's nice to be able to spend time with him, whether they're delving into the deep end or keeping it light. Part of her had wondered idly over the years what it would be like if she ever found him. If they'd know how to navigate each other without the pressure of secrecy. There's differences, of course. But differences that she likes.
Her head turns to watch with a half smile as he works on the peach, and one of her brows arches at the offer. She's 100% sure he doesn't realize how suggestive it sounds. But it still doesn't stop her from countering, "how about you come over here and feed it to me?"
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He has absolutely no idea how suggestive it sounds. He just thought that a peach sounded nice, although the idea of feeding her a little bit sounds super nice. That is something they've done a little bit and the touch of her lips on his fingers were always a welcome reward. He closes the gap and brings a piece to her lips to offer her. Once she takes it he takes a slice for himself to eat eyes closing as he concentrates on the flavor.
"What do you think?" he asks her.
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Maybe they'll just have to forego real meals while they're in France in favor of grazing on fruit, cheese and bread. Though it does seem like it'd be a shame to come to a coastal town and not try seafood.
"Want to take a ride along the water front later? We can watch the sunset."
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"You didn't ask me how I liked it." He says looking at her with very serious eyes. It's clear he had some line, or something stuck in his head that he was absolutely wanting so say but was waiting for Natasha to queue it up for him. It's a new idea but not something too crazy given his weird programing need to look for certain permission in things.
"I have some thoughts about it."
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Natasha doesn't mind these moments where he seems to need permission to take another step. It's all part of navigating the structure in his brain, in making his own safe spaces and pathways. She figures he'll eventually reach a point where he knows what his own boundaries look like and will feel more comfortable navigating them. There are worse places to start than verbal consent.
With a smile that's all fond amusement, she answers, "well, I'd hate to be rude. How did you like the peach, James?"
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"It taste delicious, just like something else I've had in my life." It's a statement that makes him blush even saying it but he's going to go through with this and he slips those hands back down to her waist and lifts her easily to set her up on the counter and step between her legs.
"Any idea what that might be, Natalia?"
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"Hmm," she muses, leaning forward to idly drape her arms around his shoulders. "Nectarines?"
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"Mmm. I don't think that's quite right," he says with a smirk once the kiss breaks. "I seem to remember it's something I liked eating much more then that, you know."
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"More than nectarines, hmm?" Natasha feigns a thoughtful look, as if she's giving serious consideration to what he might be hinting at. Leaning in, she angles her head so she can whisper to him, her lips brushing against his ear. "Must be whipped cream."
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"Probably somethin' like that.." he says breathy as he pulls back smiling at her. "You wanna make out for a while before we decide what we're gonna do next?"
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"Well," she muses, leaning in to drop a kiss on his mouth. "You did promise me we would make out like teenagers." She gives his lower lip a gentle nip, then kisses his jaw. "I'm very interested in making good on that promise."
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"I love the idea of that, I'm pretty sure that it is something I still have confidence in. The rest of it, not so sure..." he says laying her out on the bed and climbing on top of her with a grin looking down at him.
"Tell me, was I nervous the first time?"
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She can't help but chuckle a little at the question. "We talked about how you could picture things you wanted to do with me, but you couldn't remember doing them before. So you knew you'd done them, but you didn't have the context for when. And how I'd never been with someone who was with me instead of a cover." Her mouth lilts into a little smirk. "I believe you used the term muddlin', so it's safe to say there were some nerves."
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"And now I remember those other times, but not you..." he says and bites the bottom of his lip, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry about that, Natalia..." he wants to remember her. He can't really believe he can't, how could he have touched, kissed, and loved the most beautiful women in existence and come out of it nothing. It's not fair to either of them.
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No matter how big the obstacle. If they could both weather the years apart, what was a hole in his memory by comparison?
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