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?
He leans his head back into her hand like he's seeking more attention from her fingers, because it feels natural to seek that out. Carefully he leans down to press soft kisses to his lips, not the kind of a fumbling teenager, but one from a man who knows exactly what he wants, but is in now rush to get there. Pressing his lips to hers, over and over a couple times before he even parts her lips and works his tongue into her mouth.
It's gentle, and soft and is an eternity before it breaks but when it does he smiles at her.
"We'll just have to make new memories then, our own this time. Natalia and James."
She can feel the way his head leans into her touch, and she brings her other hand up to carefully work the elastic out of his hair that's securing it up. Her mouth meets his each time as she finger combs his hair, then massages his scalp. She squeezed her legs gently around him as the kiss lingers, just a long, unhurried moment of enjoyment.
When he pulls back, her mouth quirks into a half smile. It's a sweet sentiment. "I'm looking forward to it."
He doesn't quite realize what she's doing when she undoes his hair he pulls away from the kiss and grins at her. Honestly, he's about to say something when he gets hit with the a thought about how pretty she is.
"You're too pretty for your own good..." he says with a laugh before adding, "and what I meant to ask was, do you like the long hair? You play with it a lot."
His hands slide over her sides stroking along them, still over her shirt, but exploring the curves of her petite form.
"You'd think you hadn't seen any beautiful women in the last fifty years," Natasha teased him with a quiet chuckle. She could feel his hands moving slowly over her sides as she wound a lock of his hair around her index finger to give it a light, playful tug.
"I've never seen you with short hair. This is the longest I've ever seen it. I'd still be doing this with short hair, though." She lifted her head to drop a quick kiss on his mouth as she curled her fingers into his hair to rub against his scalp, her tone full of mischief when she spoke again. "You always lean into my hands when I do this. I like doing something that makes you feel good."
He laughs at that, "to be fair, I don't really remember any..." he says with a chuckle. His hands stilly stay over clothes but enjoy the roaming free long her curves her her hips down to her thighs, just taking each bit of her in like it's the first time.
He grins at the comment about his hair and leans into it with a nod.
"I love it when you touch my hair, I can't really explain why? But maybe because of all the weird sensors and shit they did with my head whenever they wiped me? Or the general head pain, it's always relaxing though..." he says with half a smile, like he's sad remembering it, but likes that he can at least make the connection.
Natasha's glad that she can give him a nice association with someone touching his head. She'll happily spend the rest of the day laying there idly rubbing his scalp. Her mouth quirks in a little smile as she takes in the look on his face. "Maybe we'll have to set you up by the sink sometime and I'll shampoo and dry your hair for you."
One of her hands moves down, the pad of her thumb tracing along his cheekbone fondly. "Oh, don't worry. Your hands feel great. But I'm open to suggestions if you have something you'd like to try."
"I think I would like that," he says softly before ducking down and leaning in to give her a few more kisses. It's easier to kiss then get distracted by that, giving it just a few moments before he slides off to her side and lays his head on her shoulder, just relaxing against her.
"When I start thinking about doing more I get nervous, like I'm afraid to fuck things up."
Her fingertips stroke down along the back of his neck and over his shoulders, meeting him for each kiss until he shifts to lay next to her. She hums thoughtfully as she listens to his concern, turning her head so she can look at him.
"I'm not in a rush. What are you afraid to fuck up?"
"Everything," he says. It's true, the pressure of all of this is sometimes too much. Not like, specifically like a relationship, but this life that he has outside of being the Winter Soldier. It feels like it's too good to be true, like sand that could slip through his fingers and he wont be able to hold on to it.
"It's like this is all too good to be true and someone is going to show up and shove me in a tank again."
Natasha understands intimately what that feels like. The inescapable thought that maybe - just maybe - they let her go as a test. That they'd reel her back in one night and punish her for trying to escape. She shifts onto her side so she can face him, sliding her hand up to rest against his cheek as her eyes skim his.
"It takes time, but that feeling fades. It took me months after I escaped before I was comfortable staying in one place for more than a week. It took even longer to stop expecting the Red Room to be there when I looked over my shoulder." A sad smile tugs at the corner of her lips. She hates that this is something they both understand.
"Is there anything you think would help you feel better about being out?"
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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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It's gentle, and soft and is an eternity before it breaks but when it does he smiles at her.
"We'll just have to make new memories then, our own this time. Natalia and James."
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When he pulls back, her mouth quirks into a half smile. It's a sweet sentiment. "I'm looking forward to it."
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"You're too pretty for your own good..." he says with a laugh before adding, "and what I meant to ask was, do you like the long hair? You play with it a lot."
His hands slide over her sides stroking along them, still over her shirt, but exploring the curves of her petite form.
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"I've never seen you with short hair. This is the longest I've ever seen it. I'd still be doing this with short hair, though." She lifted her head to drop a quick kiss on his mouth as she curled her fingers into his hair to rub against his scalp, her tone full of mischief when she spoke again. "You always lean into my hands when I do this. I like doing something that makes you feel good."
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He grins at the comment about his hair and leans into it with a nod.
"I love it when you touch my hair, I can't really explain why? But maybe because of all the weird sensors and shit they did with my head whenever they wiped me? Or the general head pain, it's always relaxing though..." he says with half a smile, like he's sad remembering it, but likes that he can at least make the connection.
"I want to make you feel good too though, Nat."
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One of her hands moves down, the pad of her thumb tracing along his cheekbone fondly. "Oh, don't worry. Your hands feel great. But I'm open to suggestions if you have something you'd like to try."
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"When I start thinking about doing more I get nervous, like I'm afraid to fuck things up."
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"I'm not in a rush. What are you afraid to fuck up?"
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"It's like this is all too good to be true and someone is going to show up and shove me in a tank again."
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"It takes time, but that feeling fades. It took me months after I escaped before I was comfortable staying in one place for more than a week. It took even longer to stop expecting the Red Room to be there when I looked over my shoulder." A sad smile tugs at the corner of her lips. She hates that this is something they both understand.
"Is there anything you think would help you feel better about being out?"
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