brushpass | threads

"Is that a promise?" he asks about the naked comics before pouring two coffees and getting the cream and sugar just right because he'd paid attention to what Nat had done on the previous days, handing hers over when she sits at the table. He leans against the counter and holds his cup in both hands the metal one absorbing most of the heat, as he's learned to do sometime because it feels nice in the minimal sensation he has in it.

"I don't mind just the high level points, I was mostly just curious because I had a memory of me 'n him come back last night," He says with a smirk, like it's a good one and he's waiting for her to ask about it.

Natasha answers his question with a wink. Which does absolutely nothing to actually answer the question, but does let them continue to feel their way around the kind of flirting they're both comfortable with. When she rejoins him, she murmurs a thanks and pulls the mug of coffee towards her, just enjoying the smell of it as it wafts in the room.

"Did you?" she asks, interested. She watches him over the rim of the mug as she takes a careful sip so she won't burn her tongue. It tastes good. "What was it? The high level points are that he's adjusting. I have him chasing a fake trail from Romania to Bulgaria in case anyone's following him to look for you."

He takes a long sip of coffee looking at her careful as he listens about Steve. "Yeah that's a smart idea, no one will be looking for you instead they'll be following Captain Red White and blue around."

She's smart, but he already knew that. Like he said on the first day back together he would trust her with his life, and he does every moment they're together.

"Oh well you know, we were at the amusement parks and I spent all my money tryin' to win a stuffed animal for a red heads I thought was really cute or something like that, I just remembered Steve telling me I always had a thing for red heads," and he's got the dumbest smile on his face. "Looks like I was just lookin' for them in the wrong decade was all, til I found my girl."

It's an easy play, and one that they've used to their advantage before. It's second only to to using his shield as a launch pad so he can literally throw her at an enemy. "Well, if you're going to run around with a target on your back, might as well make it literal," Natasha answers with a smirk that suggests she's said something similar to Steve himself.

As he talks, she sets her mug down and leans in to the counter so she can listen. An amused look crosses her face. "I teased you about having a thing for red heads once," she reflects. "I knew I was right. You want to try and win me a stuffed animal?"

He laughs at that and sets his coffee cup down and pulls her into his arms so he and press a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah well, you're right about everything clearly, we've figure this out already...." he teases her back not letting go for a good few moments just being fond and dumb.

When he lets go he grabs his coffee again. "So, future carnival on the list of things to do," he says, "But today is for me to check out the clothes, get ready and go for a walk with a cutie in France. I'd make a joke that my life has kinda sucked but honestly, today sounds like a pretty damn good day."

"Glad you've accepted it so easily," Natasha answers, her hands running up along his arms as he pulls her in. One arm runs along his upper back to curl around him, giving him a quick squeeze before he lets her go.

She leans back against the counter as he takes his coffee up again. "You've got a long road ahead of you. It's good to be able to take some time to rest." And now he's got her to watch his back so he actually can give himself some time here and there. Her head tips toward the living room. "Let's see how you look in something. I can wolf whistle at you to start your pretty damn good day."

"Alright let me go shower first, my hair is getting oily," he complains and brushes his hair back out of his face. "Do you think maybe I should cut it? Pick me out some outfits to try out when I get out."

He's been thinking it might make life easier and he shrugs and takes another sip of coffee before setting it down and giving her hip a pat. Even showering before Natasha had showed up had been something of an anxiety, would someone show up, it was a moment of weakness like sleeping, but this time he took his time in the shower and came out after in just his underwear and his hair wrapped up in a towel grinning at her.

"Heya beautiful, heard you were lookin' for a cute boyfriend to dress up."

"I've never seen you with short hair. But we can probably stop by a barber if you want to give it a shot. Or I can help you pull it back if you want to try something like that first." The average person isn't going to be looking for him just yet, and they're especially not going to be expecting him in coastal France. People tend to see what they want to see, and they've got a solid cover.

She finishes off her coffee while he's in the shower and answers a few more texts from Steve before she goes to rifle through his suitcase. The leather jacket comes out first, followed by two long sleeve shirts, one in dark green and one in navy blue. There's a dark pair of jeans as well, and a new pair of boots.

When he comes back into the living room, she looks up and then leans back onto the couch with a grin, obviously checking him out. "Looks like I found him."

He has the biggest shit eating grin when she says that and is very obviously checking him out. She hadn't seen him this nude yet, and it's good to know she's still into it. He towels off his hair and goes to reach for the pair of jeans to pull on.

"I was thinkin' maybe I'd let you braid my hair or something, see if I like it out of my face that way, but you don't think I'll look lame with my hair up right?" he asks reaching for the dark green shirt and pulling it on. It's a little tight over his shoulders but nothing too bad, if anything it probably just makes him look ripped.

"I don't think they ever make these shirts for metal arms yanno?" he says with a grin holding his arms out.

"What does she think?"

Oh, she's definitely still into it. She's pretty confident she'd still be into it no matter what shape he was in. Her mouth curls into a fond little smile at his question. "You wouldn't look lame with your hair up. I'd say a bun or a ponytail are more common for men, but I can put a braid in it somewhere if you want one. You can pull it off."

She laughs quietly as he holds his arms out and rotates her index finger in the air, gesturing for him to do a spin. "I don't know if it's the metal arm. You have muscular shoulders. If I got a bigger size for your shoulders, the shirt would've been looser on your torso. I can get something tailored for you though if you're not comfortable."

At his question, she gives him an assessing once over and then nods her approval. "You're a 10."

He gives the spin she asks for and moves over to the couch she's on and climbs right into her lap, legs straddling on each side, only putting some of his weight on her his hands going up to each of her cheeks. "You, my darling, are full of shit, but I will take that compliment any day of the week," he says and gives her a soft kiss on her lips.

"Okay well then, a bun or a ponytail is fine," he adds with a dumb smile, it's a good day. It's easy to tell when he's having a good brain day, everything is lighter, brighter and he's more likely to just give answers without having to think on them at all.

He doesn't mind the tight shirts, so long as Natasha thinks he looks good in them.

"I just want you to think I look good in them," he says honestly.

Natasha looks surprised when he climbs into her lap, but she's still smiling. Her hands rest on his sides for a moment as his frame her face, and she feigns an indignant look. "Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Her hands slide up along his back as she tips her head to return the kiss.

She can tell he's in a good space, and she's glad that she had the idea to come somewhere without strong memories tied to it. It's nice to see him feeling more at ease in his own skin. Even though she knows there will still be bumps in the road. This will be a good stretch for him to look back on, to know that it's possible.

"I think you look great in them," she answers, leaning up so she can press a kiss on his jaw. "Come on, sit on the couch. I'll do your hair a few different ways and you can decide what you like."

He can’t help but protest the idea of getting off her lap by by giving her a slow, playful kiss before he slides off her and moves to sit on the couch on his own so she can try the hair for him. “This works but I have one condition,” he says settling in to have his hair worked with.

“It’s a simple request, really- when we come back from exploring town later today I wanna make out like teenagers,” he tells her with a smirk.

There’s millions of things he doesn’t know, and hasn’t learned, but he knows that kissing her always feels good and well, he’s been thinking about making out proper since he woke up with her on his chest and looked so perfect and like his.

"Oh, specifically like teenagers?" she asks with a smirk, her fingertips running lightly down along his jaw as she leans back from that slower kiss. "Maybe I'll let you get to second base if you play your cards right." She offers him a playful wink as she gets up.

Moving her suitcase on top of his, she opens it up and gets a brush and hair elastic out from the bag of toiletries. She rests them on the back of the couch as she gets behind it. Her fingers run through his hair carefully a few times, just getting a feel for how long it is.

"I can put a braid along here if you do a ponytail," she suggests, her fingertips running along the side of his head. "Or one up along the back if I put it in a bun. Want to try them both and see what you like better?"

He laughs at that suggestion of second base smiling dumbly at her as he watches her move around. Even just this fresh out of bed early morning version of Natasha is breathtaking. How is he even supposed to think about anything except making out honestly is what he wants to say but he doesn't he just teases her right back.

"Yeah well, you know. You're with a 100 year old man, in our day that's what we used to do a lot. Just a lot of making out for a very long time," he says reflecting on some more of his memories.

When she suggests things he can't honestly even imagine what they might look like so he shrugs. "Yeah do what you think looks good, and I'll let you know what I like when we try it out?" he suggests. "I really just want it up out of my face."

"Hmm, what was that you said about your face being my favorite seat?" she asks pointedly, leaning down and over his shoulder with a grin as her hand runs back through his hair. "That innocent 'back in my day' routine won't work on me." Chuckling, she turns her head to kiss his temple and straightens back up.

"I want it to be something you like too. So let's try the ponytail first and then we'll do the bun and you can decide which you like better. Or if you want the braid in it or not." Picking up the brush, she starts to run it through his hair, taking her time to do it gently so she can get his hair away from his face. "You could think about cutting it too, when you're ready."

He leans back into the kiss of the temple just a bit like he's craving the attention but then settles for her to let her give his hair some attention. "Look just because I have lots of memories having sex with you that keep unlocking in my brain, it's not really the same is it?" he's challenging her on her own statements of that it's okay and he can take as long as she needs, but this is mostly teasing for him, he's smiling and it's all in good fun.

"Are you going to think I'm handsome with short hair? I'm pretty sure all the photos I've seen in the stuff from the history books online I had short hair," he says with a chuckle, "You know, as men did in my day..."

"I don't really remember a ton about what Steve was looking like when I was fighting him, is he Mr. Clean Cut Americana still?" he asks her curiously.

"I know. Just teasing you," she answers warmly, one hand dropping to give his shoulder a quick squeeze. There's no expectations. Just a bit of humor, to counterbalance all the heavy things he still has left to uncover. It's interesting to hear that he's been looking himself up in the history books. And honestly, not a bad place to start. Setting the brush down, she separates some of the hair off to the side so she can carefully braid it.

"Darling, you'd still be handsome if you were completely bald." Once the braid is finished, she tucks it behind his ear and sweeps it up with the rest of his hair as she navigates it into a bunch. The hair tie comes next, twisting around his hair until its secure. "He's still clean shaven. I think his hair is still cut to military regulations too. I can't picture him with a beard. Go take a look at this hair and see if you like it."

He smiles at the teasing, amused at the ability to imagine just what Steve looks like by Natasha’s description. He’s seen photos of his Captain America suit in the papers, it’s different then the old one but looks good too. He gets up to go take a look at his had and runs a hand over it with a nod in the mirror. It’s nice to get it out of his face, feels good.

He leaves the bathroom and comes back to Natasha pulling her up to stand and into his arms. “You know this is gonna be the end game right, me and you? It’ll just take time, but I know you’re my girl,” he tells her all soft and charming. It’s all so different sounding in English too, like a new promise.

“We should send a photo of us to Steve later, I want him to see what a hot red head I landed.”

Natasha runs the brush through her own hair while Bucky is in the bathroom, leaning on the back of the couch. She smiles at him when he comes back in and lets him pull her in, her hands running up his chest. The smile softens as she listens to him, one of her hands moving up to cradle his chin. "It was always going to be you, you know." There's no chance she ever would have stopped looking for him. Any relationship she's been in has been measured against what she has with him and it always falls short.

She playfully pats his cheek before hooking her arm around his shoulders, feigning a surprised look when he says he wants to send a photo to Steve. "I thought you were supposed to be my arm candy with the new outfit and everything. I think he'd like that, though. If you like your hair like that, I'll go get ready."

He melts a little bit when she says it was always going to be him, it was just days ago he had all the weird feelings of jealousy, yet somehow here they are settling in and feeling like forever to him. When she confirms it he can’t help but lean in and give her lips a soft peck.

“My darling…” he says softly in Russian again before going right back to English. “Gonna need English pet names for you too. But they don’t sound right yet…”

He shakes his head. “Can be your arm candy in front of anyone but Steve.” He lets her go and pats her hip. “Go get ready, this is just fine for my hair too.”

He’s been having guilt about not talking to Steve yet recently so he thought the photo might help release some of that anxiety.

"See? Pet names are harder in English." She's not sure if Russian is a more romantic language than English or if it's just because English has raided so many pockets for grammar that it's more patchwork. She smooths the shirt down over his shoulders as she steps back, giving him an amused look when he says he can't be her arm candy in front of Steve. "Try the jacket on while I'm getting ready."

Natasha takes her suitcase into the bedroom with her, and makes a side trip to the bathroom to freshen up and do her makeup as she considers her option. The French have a very particular sense of style, and she knows the best way to blend in is by matching that style. When she emerges from the bedroom again, she's wearing a fitted pair of jeans, black ankle boots, and a silky black top. The chain of her lariat necklace is visible around her neck as she shrugs on a long tan blazer. "So, are you ready to find some bread?"

When she talks about pet names it's a thought for the first time about what language they're speaking in general and it makes him realize that maybe they should have a conversation about that at some point.

He puts on the jacket right away then decides to take it off until Natasha is closer to being ready, because it just feels strange sitting around in the jacket. He tugs on some socks and then just zones out, getting lost in his own head while he waits for her to come back out. When she does he can't help but get the dumbest smile on his face though.

"Well you look gorgeous," he says, eyes looking her up and down like he's never seen anything so pretty. Of course, he somehow looks at her like that all the time, you'd think he'd eventually get used to her but somehow he never does. He stands and pulls on his leather jacket so that she can see it on him, it fits well and is comfortable, he likes it.

"Bread sounds good," he says. "What's our cover? What are our personas here incase we get asked anything?"

"Your opinion is biased," Natasha informs him with a smile, "but still appreciated. Thank you." She nods in approval when he puts the leather jacket on and crosses the room so she can straighten the collar for him. She had a feeling he'd miss having a leather.

"American tourists," she answers, hand patting against his chest before she steps back so she can go over to the kitchen counter. Opening the manila envelope there, she pulls out a wallet and hands it to him, followed by some of the cash. "ID's in the wallet," she tells him as she takes out the second wallet and tucks another portion of cash into it. "The IDs have the same address on it, so we can say we're dating. Your cover's a mechanic. Mine's a teacher."

"You're too pretty to be a school teacher.." he laughs and takes the wallet glancing at the ID. "Really? My name is Nick?" he asks rolling his eyes at her and then tugs her a little closer. "Do I look like a Nick?"

He doesn't know why that sounds weird to him, maybe because it's the first time even using American names for himself that he could remember. He hadn't had to do the spy bullshit before he'd fallen off the train. "And what's my girlfriends name? Ms. Too Pretty?"

His hands stroke up her sides slipping a thumb under the shirt to brush against her skin in a playful way. He clearly isn't upset by any of this, and is just having a good time with her. Hell, he's pretty sure if she really wanted to mess with him the fake ID would have said Steve.

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