maskirovka | overflow / open post

Bucky can't resist her invitation and he slides closer, pulling Natasha into his arms. He loves her and never stopped. It makes this harder than it ought to be, honestly, because he wants more than Natasha can truly give him right now. He doesn't want to push but when he has an invitation like this...who is he to refuse? He can't. He's not good enough for that.

"I'll keep you safe. I always have," Bucky promises her. "And just so you know? You're the only woman that's ever called me James. Everyone else has called me Bucky. Not James. James only belongs to you."

It was simplicity itself, to slide right into those strong, mismatched arms. Natasha let him pull her close, instinctively molding her small frame against his. The bunk was on the small side, but they managed, with the redhead all but draped across the soldier's broad chest, her arms tight around his torso and one bare leg thrown over his hip. Even before they stopped shifting, her lips were seeking his, for soft little kisses that had her whimpering in short order.

"I believe you," she whispered against his mouth. She might not recall everything they had shared, but she did indeed believe that he'd protect her with his last breath. He'd proven that already. A small hand skated through Bucky's short hair, cupping his cheek as she kissed him again, lips lingering with reciprocated want. "Da," she agreed, voice gone husky with barely suppressed desire, "James is mine. Mine and only mine."

She nuzzled his nose with hers, all but purring as she shifted and slid against him. "...just as Natalia is always yours..."

This is more than he expected in a semi-public place and while Bucky isn't exactly a prude he also wants to do a hell of a lot more with Natasha than the cabin of an airplane is going to let him do. He has to settle for her draped across his lap, smooth curves and delicate features, and he has to kiss her.

It's a deeper kiss than before, no longer dancing around the edges. He wants and it's evident in the way he cups her face in his hands and slants his mouth over hers.

They could die at any moment. Natasha wouldn't have been too surprised if the privacy screen suddenly ripped aside and a HYDRA kamikaze soldier barreled into them with a live grenade ready to explode. She wouldn't put it past that hellish organization, not in the slightest. But she was tired of living in fear, paranoia had been her constant companion for as...long as she could remember. And her memories were so jumbled, so exhausting to sort through, now.

Kissing James Barnes, though; that just made the most sense. She obligingly tilted her head to fuse their lips tighter together, parting her mouth to taste him more. He tasted sweet, and Natasha moaned softly into his mouth, hands gripping the back of his head to keep him exactly where he was. This was insanity, and she knew it, but there was no denying this ache down in the pit of her stomach, yearning for him.

"We can't have sex in here," he murmurs on an exhale, settling Natasha firm in his lap while he leans in to kiss her again. God, but he wishes they could because he doesn't remember the last time he was this worked up over a woman. He doesn't even think there have been any since Natasha, actually, other than flirtations that have gone nowhere fast. Steve had tried (and failed) to set him up with Maria over at SHIELD and it had just gone to hell in a handbasket.

"There's a lot between kissing and sex, though, and I'm willing to work out just how far we can push it."

"Wanna bet?" She wasn't interested in talking anymore. Nor was she interested in putting this off any longer. It had started a day or so ago, waking up in his arms warm, safe, and content. And had reached culmination in the airport concourse. Strong fingers gripped Bucky's head, anchoring his mouth for hers, and she kissed him hard, settling even more snugly astride his thick thighs.

"All the way," Natasha breathed into his open mouth, licking at his lips with a greedy, eager tongue. "Stop talking and kiss me," she ordered in a breathless voice, nearly whining as she ground down over his lap. She was burning up under her skin; she wanted him now. "Need you, James," she managed to pant, knees gripping his hips tightly. She knew he was hard between her thighs, and she pressed her lower body roughly over his. "Get inside me, malyutka...hurry, please.."

"Someone is going to walk in here when they hear is," Bucky says, voice low and rough because he's goddamned turned on right now. He knows he's not going to tell her no exactly but he doesn't think it's going to be a good idea to draw attention to themselves like this. What if someone on the flight crew is an agent of either SHIELD or HYDRA? This is playing into their hands.

But Natasha is kissing him and rubbing against his cock and he knows he's lost. They can fuck with most of their clothes on, anyway, right? He reaches under her shirt and bra, tries to cup her breast without taking anything off.

Her back arched when he fondled her, and she nipped sharply at Bucky's lower lip, not really having the patience for his damnable teasing but unable to pull back or push him away. "Then we'll have to be...quiet," she moaned between their eager, sloppy kisses, knowing that was all but an exercise in futility. Natasha tugged his lower lip with her teeth, licking back into his mouth, and snaked her hands down between them even as he groped her, jerking at the button and zipper of his jeans.

She had them open in record time, and wasted little more sliding her hand beneath the rough fabric to grip his cock, warm hand rubbing and stroking with sinful desire. She had more than half of a mind to slide out of his lap and take him in her mouth, but her loins clenched, rebelling that idea in favor of mutual satisfaction. So she pulled her hand free and hastily pulled aside the thin panties barring the way, and sank down on his thick shaft with a low, guttural hiss.

Natasha bit back a strangled cry, sinking her teeth into Bucky's ear to keep from moaning obscenely. "...James..." she breathed instead, quivering around his cock buried inside her, seated all the way to the hilt.

It's honestly better like this. Their clothes mostly cover where they're joined and there's no reason to think they're doing anything other than kissing. Just to be sure, Bucky covers Natasha's mouth with another long, slow kiss whens he says his name so that any sounds they make are muffled by his mouth.

He cups her hips to guide her, rocking up into Natasha as he sets a rhythm. She's still the most beautiful woman he's ever known and the only one that just fits all his rough edges perfectly. There's no one who has a hold over him like Natasha Romanoff. No one.

Just feeling him inside of her (again, her mind whispered greedily) had Natasha shuddering in short order, her fingernails digging into Bucky's shoulders, skin and metal beneath his shirt. He filled her completely, and she wasn't at all surprised to find that they moved together perfectly, a synchrony that could have only been achieved by familiarity, or lots and lots of practice.

Her hips moved sinfully under his guiding hands, rolling to seat him deep each time he rocked upwards into her, and although she wanted nothing more for him to throw her over and take her like the beast she knew lurked beneath that delectable flesh, there was still a slow, erotic thrill to this; coming together with the near-certainty of danger and death looming just beyond. It had her moaning into his mouth, their kisses becoming sloppy with teeth and tongues as they tried to devour each other.

Slim thighs flexing smoothly against Bucky's thrusting hips, Natasha rode him slow and deep, making every stroke last as long as it could before sinking back down on him again. They had twelve or more hours of flight time, after all. And she was so hungry for him.

Bucky doesn't think he's ever done this on a plane. Contrary to popular belief, he hadn't been particularly promiscuous before being shipped off to Europe and when he was in the war, he was more focused on staying alive than getting with women. He's had plenty of experience since then, of course, and a good bit of it was with Natasha during her training. He doesn't regret it, even if the early part of the relationship might be viewed as coercive on his part. He'd been her teacher, her trainer, and he'd taken advantage of her.

There's no sense of that now. Natasha's taking him in completely and even though there's not the most room to move in their compartment, she's making the most of what they have. Bucky keeps one hand at the small of her back and gets his other on her breast, thumb rolling and teasing her nipple into a stiff peak. He wants to get his mouth on it but it's probably going to have to wait for them to get on solid ground again unless they start performing better tricks than the Moscow Circus.

"Didn't think I was getting inducted into the Mile High Club tonight," Bucky quips, catching her mouth in another messy, breathless kiss. His teeth tug at her lower lip a bit and when he pulls away, her mouth looks even fuller than usual and her green eyes have lost their normal feral, haunted look. She looks as if she's at home with him and it's a remarkable difference from the woman he'd had at Avengers HQ just a week or so ago.

Natasha didn't remember if she'd ever done this on a plane. Probably not, but that was rumination better left for later. Because right now, she had to chuckle into Bucky's mouth, her low, dark alto slithering between their wet lips, and she smirked into their sloppy kisses, murmuring, "Lucky you, da?" To drive that point profoundly home, she jerked her hips hard into his, her nails tightening on his shoulders and her head falling back with a sibilant hiss.

Her back arched into his hand, breasts aching and heavy behind their constricting layers, but the sharp discomfort only added to the pleasure already beginning to course through her, igniting fire in her blood. A particularly sharp thrust had her suddenly gasping a soft scream, muffling it in the side of Bucky's neck as she quaked, the climax having snuck up and crashed right over her, but she kept her deep, deep rhythm, clenching and squeezing around his cock as she rode the wave right over the edge.

There was more to come, she knew it, and she wanted to pull him right along with her, regardless of how or when. Natasha shifted higher on her knees, the better to buck her hips over Bucky's lap, strong hands gripping him tightly as she bounced, gasping sharply with every deep, hard stroke.

For some reason, knowing that they must be quiet makes it even more pleasurable for him. Bucky hasn't ever been the kind of guy to want to hide the girl he's with but he feels like hiding because he's doing something he shouldn't be doing in a public place is definitely not the same.

Natasha's body clamps down on his cock and it feels like the entire world has centered on just the feel of her around him, their hands sliding across sweat-slicked skin, her soft little cries as she tries to muffle the sound of her pleasure against his neck. He wishes she could be loud about it, really, but the fact she can't stokes him hotter than anything he remembers before.

It doesn't take him long to follow, not with her changing the angle and keeping hold of him like she never intends to let him go. It's been a while since he's come and even longer since he's been with a woman (and the last one was her) so it feels so good for having been such a long time. He comes, white-hot, and then he tips his head back against the headrest and pants a bit, trying to catch his breath.

"I don't know how we're going to get away with this more than once, you know. We will, of course, but I don't know how."

Natasha felt him unravel beneath her, and finally slumped boneless against him, trying to slow her breathing and her galloping heart. She knew that this was by far the most insane thing they could have done, but she'd wanted it, damnit. And she was tired of denying those wants for the "greater good". Especially when danger and death lurked around every conceivable corner.

Hearing his quip had her chuckling, though, and she shifted just enough to murmur beneath his ear, "...does it matter?" She didn't think so. But sitting here basking in post-coital bliss was for amateurs, so she forced herself to move, take a moment to clean up and rearrange clothing to more acceptable standards, then reach up to turn off their small cabin light.

"We should...get some sleep," she said, as if they hadn't just been fucking each other with a mutual desperation. "Still a long flight across the Atlantic." Natasha wiggled around to the inside of the small cot, holding out her arms again. "Lie down with me, James," she invited. Then bit her lip and admitted, "...I want to hold you. As long as I can."

It doesn't really matter. Bucky's sure that this and worse has happened on a plane before, especially in these roomy First Class suites, but he does take the time to rearrange his clothes and get a little more comfortable. He wants to hold Natasha in his arms and when she suggests the same, he's more than happy to comply.

He arranges himself so he can stretch his legs out as much as possible and tugs Natasha to lay against his chest. It's probably the most comfortable they can be, considering he's a solid six foot, but it's still not ideal. Ideal would be another Romanian beach house and hours and hours of time to themselves. If they could just disappear permanently, that would be ideal. He knows it won't be long before SHIELD finds them and that's only if Hydra doesn't find them first. Natasha is their asset and they'll want her back - and capturing a lost asset in Bucky is bound to be on their list as well.

Bucky remembers what it was like to be theirs, to be a prisoner in his own body while he committed atrocity after atrocity. It still haunts him even now and plagues his dreams but he has the assurance that he knows each and everything he did and he can at least atone for them individually. Natasha doesn't even have that. She's got swaths of her memory missing, long periods she cannot account for, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle that. He's not sure he'd be able to handle it at all.

She woke up a few hours later, feeling the plane bank a small bit to the right. Apparently they were still out over the ocean, or so her glance out of the small cabin window proved. But that was fine; at least nothing wicked had come bursting through the small door with machine guns in hand, so Natasha gave a brief yawn, untangled her arms and legs from a certain soldier-turned-octopus, and crawled free of their warm, comfortable nest. A visit to the washroom was first, so she replaced her brunette wig and pulled on the rest of her clothes, placing a gentle kiss to Bucky's rough cheek before she left.

Ablutions took about ten minutes, with a word to the stewardess about coffee and perhaps a snack, and discovered that they still had about three hours left in the air, but should be arriving right on time, give or take ten minutes. Returning to their cabin, Natasha pulled the partisan closed again and had to smile lightly at the sight of her exhausted companion, still dozing where she'd left him. She considered crawling right back where she'd been, but coffee would be arriving soon. Caffeine definitely took precedence, at the moment.

Bucky had slept well in spite of being cramped up on a plane (no matter how nice the seats, he was just too tall and too broad to fit into them comfortably). Having Natasha in his arms while he slept soothed him in a way little else had in the past several years so when she stirs to get up, he fights it for a little while.

By the time she'd come back from the washroom, though, he decided he'd go ahead and get up and he casts her a bleary eye. "How far out are we? I'd love to get off this plane and into an actual bed."

Finding a place that would take cash and no questions was first priority, then everything else could follow. Bucky knows it's easier to hole up when you're alone but he doesn't think it will help in this case;, leaving Natasha isn't an option - not since he's gotten her back.

"I'll settle for caffeine and breakfast, though."

"Three hours or so," was her quiet response, shifting a little more comfortably in the opposite seat. Her lips quirked, amused, as she gave him the proverbial once-over; mussed hair, rumpled clothes, and the air of sleepiness that still clung to his eyes and face. Adorable as hell, James Barnes. It was all she could manage not to slide right into his lap again.

After coffee, perhaps.

And right on cue, the stewardess arrived with the promised provisions, leaving the carafe, two cups, and a small assortment of breakfast pastries, as well. Natasha doled out the coffee, guzzling the hot brew almost immediately and feeling a bit more "awake" afterwards. Biting into a cream puff, relishing the flood of calories, she sipped at her coffee again, inquiring between mouthfuls, "Where are you wanting to go after we land? Anywhere specific in mind?"

"Vama Veche. It's smaller and there's mostly hippies there. It'll be easier to blend in with them because they're not likely to ask as many questions. I would say Costinești but the crowd is younger and neither of us are passing for co-eds."

Bucky likes to think they've aged well, especially Natasha, but no one with as many scars as they've collected between the two of them is going to convince anyone that they're a carefree student on holiday. Their chances are much better in the smaller, more out of the way town.

"If we're sniffed out, there's a chance we can try Tønsberg in Norway. According to rumors, there's Asgardian ex-pats who want to experience Midgard there. If we can convince them that we're allies, they might hide us from the people we're trying to outrun."

Bucky thinks the muscle of Asgard would be enough to deter most average agents of SHIELD and Hydra. He's willing to trust them before he'd trust Steve. Steve himself would protect him, sure, but Steve comes with attachments.

Her lip ticked in amusement. "Hippies." The thought of wearing flowing flower-patterned skirts, sandals and Bohemian tunics pranced across her mind and Natasha laughed briefly, shaking her head. "All right." She wasn't too familiar with Romania - at least, she thought she wasn't, anyway - but she was willing to follow his head, in any case.

The news of Asgardian refugees was a little surprising, however. "In Norway?" Which made sense, considering. But HYDRA didn't seem to have any knowledge of that, and otherworldly, god-like people settling on this planet was definitely something her superiors would be interested in. Hmm. "That would definitely be worth it, if we can sway them. I doubt even HYDRA would willing take any of them on."

She went for another cup of coffee and another danish, licking her fingers clean of the sticky syrup after it was gone. Then she fell to simply sipping at her coffee, curled up in the chair and just watching Bucky across the cabin, eyes soft and expression a little greedy, but oddly feminine.

There's something strangely intimate about how they just share space now. Before, Natasha had been hissing and spitting like a frightened cat but now she seems relaxed enough to let some guard down in his presence. It's sort of like the life he'd wanted for them when they ran from HYDRA the first time and he only hates they got caught and ended up worse off than before. He knows he'll never forgive himself for the terrible things that have happened to Natasha on his account.

His eyes soften a bit as he looks at her and he has to shake his head a bit to clear it and remember what he actually wanted to say. Is he turning into Steve, being all doe-eyed in front of a pretty girl? He hopes not. That's not a good way to stay alive unless you want to go All-American about it.

"Norway, yes. I only found out about them because I've been snooping in SHIELD intelligence. I'm not as good at it as you are but I'm not bad. I'm better than they are at keeping me out, at least."

Thankfully, the rest of the flight passed without incident, and the two fugitives deplaned with the rest of the passengers, calmly following along with scarcely a ripple. Natasha kept her arm lightly linked with Bucky's, letting him steer them along through the concourse, presumably to rent a car and disappear into metropolitan Romania, although the idea of being completely at his mercy still made her a tad uneasy. But she was willing, for now at least, to follow along without complaint; he knew the country, at any rate.

Their passports cleared without a hitch, and once they were through the Customs gates, they'd made the backstretch. As a matter of course, Natasha kept her gaze sharp for any suspicious activity; watching the passing crowds like a hawk, or an overly curious tourist, say. But she didn't miss much, although she itched to be away from such milling sheep and somewhere where they both could finally take a deep breath.

"How far?"

"Better if we take a car," Bucky says, mulling over their options. "Pick one in long term parking and it's less likely they'll report it stolen before we can dump it and get another. If we rent, we get our faces and ID captured and that's just going to lead people to us. Come on, let's go shopping."

The long term parking was a deck on top of the others in the airport, the cars under the bright sun. There were a few people milling about but otherwise it was empty. Bucky wishes he had tools to do this but when you're flying by the seat of your pants, you have to improvise.

"How good are you with unlocking cars?"

She'd pointed out a rather plain SUV parked away from the security camera angle, and snorted a soft laugh to her companion's question. "About as good as you, actually. But I wouldn't want to put your 'hundred and twenty second' record to shame, malyutka. So go right ahead." Natasha smirked and took Bucky's bag, adding it to her shoulder. "Be my guest."

Moseying a few yards away, she deliberately made a good bit of random noise to draw any attention towards herself, and away from the dark haired bloke and the SUV in the corner. With any luck, they'd be out of here and on to the next presumably "safe house", and from there, who knew. Then she spied a lone security vehicle lazily climbing the spiraling ramp towards the top floor, and hissed through her teeth.

"Hurry it up, gorgeous," she called over her shoulder in Russian. "Rent-a-cop's on the way."

Bucky narrows his eyes at the teasing, pretending to be offended, but he goes ahead and gets a start on the SUV. Luckily it's a model that has a regular key and not one of the fancy ones; hotwiring it proves no problem. Also, the owner elected simply to lock it and not actually set the alarm. It wouldn't have been a problem if he had considering most people are immune to the sound of alarms now, but it does make it easier.

He does a low, soft bird call to signal to Natasha that he's in and swings around to pick her up. If they can go ahead and get out of here with minimal exposure to CCTV, the less likely they're going to be caught.

"Get in here, Red. We've got a drive."

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