This was fast, desperate, the boundaries between them collapsing, the pair accidentally tripping right past friends and straight into the something-more. Because all of a sudden, they weren’t strangers anymore. She had been patient, waiting him out and watching to see if any of those long-buried memories would ever be excavated. And he had been— oblivious, a little, but perpetually haunted by that absence, the lack, the sense of something he was missing in the picture.
But now the puzzle pieces were slamming together. Making up for lost time. James found that he missed the warmth of her mouth on his, her hands on his bare skin. Their apartment was already muggy and hot, they were already sweaty and half-naked, and so it would be the easiest thing to slip into more if this was what they wanted—
He reluctantly broke the kiss, pulled back just enough to catch his breath. His right hand had gone to Natasha’s cheek, the line of her neck, holding her in place, their eyes meeting. His composure was always so difficult to rattle, but his breaths were shallow now, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard; another victory for her. There was an unaccustomed hunger in his eyes when he looked at her.
“I don’t remember everything,” he admitted. He wanted to say it. Make it clear so it didn’t feel like he was taking advantage of her; walking in another man’s shoes and robbing his memories, except that man was also himself. “There are still… gaps. They burned it out of me. I don’t know if it’ll all ever come back.”
He’d been encountering it with Steve, too. No matter how much the other man waited and prompted, occasionally asking questions like do you remember that day we took in the stray cat, he’d simply had to shake his head regretfully and say, no, sorry. It’s gone.
“But I do remember… moments like this. Us.” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, the corner of her mouth, her lips. His expression had gone a little distant and thoughtful. “I kissed you behind the generator building at the Red Room, standing in the snow. You crawled into my bed after the job in Rovaniemi.”
Small details dredged up out of the abyss. How long? How long had they done this? How much had been taken from him?
no subject
But now the puzzle pieces were slamming together. Making up for lost time. James found that he missed the warmth of her mouth on his, her hands on his bare skin. Their apartment was already muggy and hot, they were already sweaty and half-naked, and so it would be the easiest thing to slip into more if this was what they wanted—
He reluctantly broke the kiss, pulled back just enough to catch his breath. His right hand had gone to Natasha’s cheek, the line of her neck, holding her in place, their eyes meeting. His composure was always so difficult to rattle, but his breaths were shallow now, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard; another victory for her. There was an unaccustomed hunger in his eyes when he looked at her.
“I don’t remember everything,” he admitted. He wanted to say it. Make it clear so it didn’t feel like he was taking advantage of her; walking in another man’s shoes and robbing his memories, except that man was also himself. “There are still… gaps. They burned it out of me. I don’t know if it’ll all ever come back.”
He’d been encountering it with Steve, too. No matter how much the other man waited and prompted, occasionally asking questions like do you remember that day we took in the stray cat, he’d simply had to shake his head regretfully and say, no, sorry. It’s gone.
“But I do remember… moments like this. Us.” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, the corner of her mouth, her lips. His expression had gone a little distant and thoughtful. “I kissed you behind the generator building at the Red Room, standing in the snow. You crawled into my bed after the job in Rovaniemi.”
Small details dredged up out of the abyss. How long? How long had they done this? How much had been taken from him?