brushpass | threads

"You already said I can be your hideout guy," he counters playfully and let's his hands finally release from her waist so he can stroke a hand up and down her spine contently, just really relaxing. He wasn't so sure that he was unlocking way more memories, as starting to believe them, believe his mind hadn't absolutely tricked him as he discovered them.

"I'll do my best not to get involved... which will probably end horribly knowing me. I used to have to break up fights Steve was in all the time, don't like my people hurting," he says with a soft sad smile up at her for that.

He wants to tell her about how scary those memories were at first, but it doesn't feel like the time just yet.

It is nice to see him relaxed like this. The way he'd moved during the encounter in DC, just plowing through every obstacle without regard for himself. She'd been able to tell just from the way he moved that they'd been keeping him on ice and wiping him a lot more frequently. She's glad Pierce paid for that.

"I know. He talks about that time really fondly for someone that was being beat up regularly in alleys." Her fingertips trace along his cheek as she returns the smile. "Just be patient. He's entitled to feel however he feels, but I think he trusts me enough now to hear me out about it."

He makes a face at her, it's playful, but one of annoyance. "You're telling me that me, the guy who spent years asleep in a fucking cryochamber is the one that has to be patient?" he asks pouting at her playfully.

He's not really upset, hell, Steve had been frozen asleep way longer then he had all things considered as well. His hand goes up to run through heir hair gently, taking in the feeling of how soft it was as well. God, everything about her was soft, and perfect.

His face falls a little bit as he thinks about Steve, hellicarrier memories slowly coming back as he thought about Steve being beat up in alleys behind bars. "He stopped fighting me, in DC you know that right? Just... stopped."

"At least for a little bit longer, yes," Natasha agrees, her amusement evident in her voice as he pouts at her. She's heard that patience is a virtue, but she's more of the mind that it's an act of sheer willpower. Her head tips into the feel of his fingers in her hair, though her expression sobers as she listens to him.

"He didn't admit it, but I figured as much based on what he wasn't saying." Her hand comes to rest on his chest for a moment. How much is too much? She's still out of her depth here. So much so that she's been wrong more than once. So. Shifting on his lap, she twists her upper half so she can look at him more directly. "You're his best friend. Steve loves you enough to never fight you. And I love you enough to do everything I can to stop you if I have to." It's a strange spectrum, but she's pretty sure the full range of it will be necessary if someone tries to pull him under again.

He nods, he knows both of these things to be true and he leans in to press a kiss to her temple reassuringly. He knows it's a lot for her to say, that she'd do everything she can to stop him from hurting more people. "You know me well enough to know that's exactly what I would want, I don't wanna hurt people anymore 'Tasha. Coming out of that was so fucking scary.."

His voice is somber as he says it but his hand is still petting through her hair fondly trying to keep it a little lighter even has the cross heavy topic after heavy topic.

"There were so many memories of hurting people, that when the first one of you came along -- I thought maybe I hurt you too.. forced you?" he explains a little hesitantly, shyly. Even though he knows it's not the case now, he wants to explain why he'd asked so early if he'd ever hurt her. "If my brain was playing tricks of me."

"I can't even imagine," Natasha answers, looping her arm back around his shoulders so she can rub her hand over his back again as she listens to him. There's something to be said for letting physical contact balance out the weight of a conversation. And she supposes they were always going to have a lot of heavy topics to get through. She doesn't mind. It feels like a miracle that they're able to talk about these things at all.

Her dawning realization reflects on her face when he carefully explains his worry. "Never. But I can see how it's all jumbled. Often the only time we got to be alone was during a mission or after a mission. And we often hurt people on those missions."

He looks at her quietly, the weight of all their discussions weighing on him a little bit but the physicality helps. The hand moves from her hair and goes over to cup her cheek stroking at it with his metal thumb gently.

"I'm sure more of the happy memories will come soon, leave it to my stupid brain to remember things like you in sexy lingerie eating French fries, a bubble bath, and sex, and very little else... outside of actual mission work together," he says tipping his head together. He hasn't quite connected that most of those things were their actual first time being together proper, the time he fell in love with her.

"I bet we made the most of that time, I know, deep inside me now how important you are to me, my girl," he says and his face frowns slightly at the girl bit. "I need a better pet name for you though, because that's just not going to cut it. Is there something you like?"

Natasha lets her cheek lean in to motion of his thumb, her mouth quirking into a smile. Her hand runs down the length of his forearm as she listens to him reminiscing. Or what might pass for reminiscing, when your brain has been put through so much pain. "That was the first night we spent together," she tells him. He's got enough of the pieces of that particular puzzle in hand that she doesn't feel like it's too much to give him that one particular piece that might help lock the full image in.

She can't help but chuckle a little when he frowns over the use of 'my girl.' "It is a little old fashioned." The only problem is that it's been ages since she's let anyone use a pet name for her. "You're the only one that calls me Natalia. I like that." Not really a pet name, though.

"Did you fall for me that night?" he asks teasingly, he was old and wise enough when he first fell off that train to know that people don't fall in love in one night, although they might fall into lust. It's just a stupid question with playful eyes and a flirty tone enough to lighten the mood now that Nat has helped him put a few more pieces of the puzzle together.

"Natalia," he says softly. "My beautiful Natalia," he says again like he's testing it out. "My little spider" he adds still in Russian before changing to English and saying "My little spider," in English as well and makes the worst face ever. "Is it okay if we speak Russian? It sounds wrong in English."

"You fell for me," Natasha answers, meeting his playful eyes with a smirk as she drapes her arm over his shoulder. What? So maybe it was a two way street. If he's going to playfully tease her, she's going to playfully make a point right back.

The face he makes when he switches to English almost makes her laugh, pressing her lips together as she watches him mull over his options. "We can speak whatever language you'd like," she answers, easily switching to Russian. "English doesn't use diminutives the same way Russian does. So it doesn't sound the same way it does in Russian. Not as affectionate."

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says fondly and presses a kiss to the side of her head yet again. Still chaste and fond and he can’t even bring himself to kiss her on the lips again like he’s done after the dance.

“My darling,” he tries yet again and nods, he likes that one more. “You still go by the black widow though? So I guess you’re still my widow huh?” He asks curiously hand trailing back down her back til he has his hands on her hips like he could pick her up at any moment.

“Any reason why you chose to keep the same name?”

Natasha decides not to confirm or deny his theory, and instead reciprocates the kiss by pressing one to his cheekbone. Still relatively chaste, though she lets it linger for a few seconds before leaning back. She inclines her head to indicate her approval for my darling.

His question about her code name comes earlier than she'd thought it might. "A few reasons," she agrees slowly. "At first, after I got out, I used the name as a lure. I'd take some jobs, depending on what it was. But I'd kill some of the people that sought me out. It's what got me on SHIELD's radar. Then I figured it's my name, for better or worse. And I liked the idea of people that knew the Red Room having to hear that name and knowing what all their years of training ended up being used for."

He leans his face a little more into that kiss and just relaxes a bit more listening to her tell the story on how she’s still the Black Widow. It makes a lot of sense really and he squeezes her hips in understanding.

“They should be terrified of you. You were better then anyone in there - that I am sure of,” he adds. “I don’t remember tons of our working together, but I have a sense of how much I liked working with you.”

“Can I ask you a question about New York?”

Natasha wishes she was evolved enough to say that it's not about them being terrified of her. That it's about her having her own agency, about going west and joining up with SHIELD and then the Avengers. But considering the way she and Clint handled Dreykov, well.

There's a little smirk on her lips and she lifts one shoulder in a shrug. It's a little bit about them being terrified of her. She always figured they'd successfully crippled the operation when they blew up Dreykov's office because they never sent him after her. It's clear from the look on her face that she's chasing a thought down a rabbit hole, but she refocuses on his face when he speaks again. "You can ask me anything you want."

He can't help but smile more at the smirk she has, it's gorgeous. It shows her confidence and it makes him relax a little more in her arms. His hands squeezed around her waist fondly. He might have had horrible luck, in terms of everything that had happened to him at all. But here was this woman who was ready to stand by him when she didn't have to, and support him and he was pretty sure there was at least some luck.

"I'm lucky you wanna put up with me still, really lucky," he says eyes all soft and big at her for a moment before his face settles into something more serious for the actual question he wants to ask.

"What was it like for you, in DC when you found out it was an asset with a metal arm running around? Or I guess, if you saw me first? I really don't know how you found out."

She's not surprised that he asks about what it was like to find out he was in DC. It's one of the first questions she expected him to ask. Still, it makes her sad to think he was worrying about that.

Lifting her hand, she runs her fingers back through his hair again. "I figured it was you when you went after Fury. I told Steve about Odessa so he'd know what to look for. Didn't bring up the rest of it because there was enough going on without adding that on to it. Finding out you knew him before the war was a bigger surprise." There's a pause, and she studies his face for a moment before she continues. "I thought for sure the Red Room would send you after me. I was wondering if you were going to finish me off in Odessa. When you didn't, I figured another agency picked you up after I killed Dreykov. Seems like it was HYDRA."

It's a lot, everything she says and he can't help but feel a little guilty about it all. He brings his hands up to stroke through her hair slowly hand settling on the back of his neck and stroking his thumb against it as he listens.

"They erased me after Odessa. I had a breakdown when I remembered you, freaked out. Tried to kill my handlers, well, let's be honest killed a couple of them," he says quietly. "I'm glad you were okay."

He doesn't even want to imagine what it might have been like if he'd actually been sent to kill her. It would have been too much, he might have put a bullet in his brain when he remembered it.

Natasha leans in to let her forehead rest against his as his thumb strokes the back of her neck. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. I'm okay." Her mouth curls in a smirk as she runs her hand over his shoulder. "Can't wear bikinis anymore, though." Somehow, she thinks he'll appreciate the joke more than Steve did.

She exhales as her hand runs up along the side of his neck and back down his shoulder again. Part of her thought it might be too much too soon but - with the memories already coming back, maybe it'll help. "I only got out of the Red Room because you helped me, you know. I told you I wouldn't leave without you. But our plan went wrong and you stayed behind so I could escape."

So far everything she'd been saying was turning over rocks in his head. Each one leading to a chain reaction but this one brought back no memories. It was like it was locked away much further in a place he couldn't get it. He doesn't try to force it.

"Natalia, Darling, I am so glad that you got out and were safe," he says honestly leaning in close to her. The contact is good, grounding as his hands squeeze around her waist and run over her back and just hold her close, protectively as he can get in the moment. "Who knows if I'd even be here or okay without you out there helping me. Might have gotten killed in DC."

It's true, they could play a million what ifs in their world.

"I promise to kiss that spot I made a mess of a million times over when we get to that point in our relationship again, I bet it still looks hot in bikinis," He's deflected back to the more playful talk, in part because he can't remember the others.

"Do I get a looksie or?"

"I'll help you anywhere you go," Natasha answers easily, like she's just offering to pick up coffee. The promise is that easy to her when it comes to him. She's always kept her inner circle small, but he's had a place in it before she even could call it a circle. Even on the run with HYDRA shattered all around the globe, she won't hesitate to watch his back.

Honestly, it's what she's banking on to get her out of hot water with Steve.

She chuckles at his request, leaning back a little to give him an amused look. "You're going to get some serious mixed signals if I start pulling my pants down to show you that one. You can look at the one on my shoulder if you want."

"You say that like I haven't already been inside you more times then we can count, or that your favorite chair isn't my face..." he teases, just letting her know a little more of the kind of things that were dancing in his head.

He's not actually trying to make a move, it's more of a joke just to have a distraction from some of the heavy. It'd be so much heavy, that just, they could use some laughs.

"Really though, whenever I do see them, I promise to kiss them better the best I can," he says looking up at her with a smile. He leans in to press a kiss to her shoulder through her shit for good measure.

Natasha feigns a scandalized look which almost covers that she's on the cusp of laughing. She ruffles his hair. "Someone's rediscovered his filthy mind." The comment is delivered teasingly as she moves her hand down to gently hold his chin. "That is my favorite seat, though."

She brushes her thumb against his cheekbone, the chuckle finally escaping as he kisses her shoulder. Leaning back in, she wraps her arms around him and just holds him close there for a moment. "I'll hold you to that. Is there anything you need? I can do a supply run before we get settled in here for the night."

He shakes his head against her shoulder, leaning into the hold. It's comical really, the way the two of them are absolutely just clinging to each other. "No, if we're gonna leave tomorrow it will be easier to have less anyways," he adds quietly as he strokes the small of her back.

"Well, at least my mind isn't messing with me when it comes to that," he teases back to her. "I have to admit, For as few memories as I have over the years, there is a lot of oral sex memories, I'm almost shocked we were able to get time alone that much?" He says softly with consideration. "Not complaining that we did though."

Hey, he wanted to be touched. And it's been so long. She can't help but oblige. Piling two people on a chair isn't exactly comfortable, though. Still, her mouth quirks into a smirk at his teasing comment. "Even the Red Room had blind spots. They weren't looking for us to sneak around because we were both exemplary at our jobs. So we had our time on missions and sometimes we were able to see each other in the Red Room."

Her thumb brushes across his cheek again, a faintly nostalgic smile on her face as she slips off of his lap and crosses the room to lean against the kitchen counter. "Any preferences for your next destination? We can stay in Romania but it might be a good idea to cross the border to Hungary or Bulgaria."

That tracks, the looks, the kisses in blind spots, that he had been imagining and seeing were just another spot for him. It's not like Natasha is giving him all the pieces but just helped arrange them by color and flipped them over. He was still mostly putting them together himself.

"Sweetheart, you pick. Wherever I'm not going to have to deal with Steve any time soon," he says because that's honestly something he's not ready for. "I need us, figured out before I can talk to him," he says honestly. It's why he'd kept running it was all too much to understand all his feelings of Steve and Natasha working together? How was a man even supposed to process this.

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Pretend that last one asked about DC and not NYC my brain was mush last night

I gotchu!

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