nerves_of_ice | [oom] in the dark house you have seen the sun rise

Ayo had suggested - firmly - that it would not be wise for him to be a part of the response team that's standing ready in case anything goes wrong, and he can't say that he disagrees with her. Instead, Bucky goes to Shuri's lab when 'Irma' and 'Ryan' leave for the meet with the distributor and listens in from there.

Nothing goes wrong. He's glad; they all are, he knows. Once it's clear that they're on their way back and not being followed, Shuri takes off her earpiece and turns to him. "Well. That is good. Everything is going as we had hoped. So now I must ask you - are you ready to proceed tomorrow as we have planned?"

He removes his own earpiece and sets it aside before he answers her. He doesn't want there to be any chance that he'll be overheard, not about this. "Yes," he says, quietly, but without hesitation. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." One corner of his mouth twitches in a rueful smile. "Is it okay to say that I'm a little nervous?"

Shuri takes his hand between hers and holds on. "Of course it is okay," she tells him. "It is no small amount of trust that you have placed in me. This I know."

They sit there in the quiet for a while before he squeezes her hand and lets go. Shuri bounces to her feet and smiles at him. "Now go," she says, attempting a stern manner and failing due to the laughter in her bright eyes as she orders him around. "Do something fun today. I will see you in the morning."

"Okay," Bucky says, and gives her a quick answering smile before he walks out.

He goes back to the hut by the lake. Whether or not that'd been what Shuri had intended, he doesn't know, but it's more peaceful than anywhere else, and right now that's all he wants. Besides, if anyone's looking for him... well, they'll know how to find him there.

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He hisses in a breath, and tips his head into her touch.

"That's true," he agrees.

She tugs a little harder and leans in to kiss him, deep and sweet.

"I'm glad you agree," she tells him, when it breaks.

"Ah, god, Sharon--"

Words fail him as he wraps his arm around her and pulls her in, kissing her back, drowning in her touch, her scent, the warm weight of her against him.

The way he says her name burns like a coal straight into her stomach. "Baby," she says, soft and heated, and kisses him again, more passionately than before. "Bucky."

He's everything, everything, everything. These next few weeks will be hell, so she kisses him over and over, trying to burn the taste of him into her mind.

He groans and pulls her closer, drowning in each kiss.

"Don't stop," he murmurs, his arm around her waist, his mouth on hers. "Please."

"No," she promises, and sinks both her hands into his hair, tugging lightly the way she knows he likes. "I won't stop, baby."

She kisses him again, again, again, soft sounds crawling up her throat, clawing at her chest. Nothing at all exists except his arm around her waist, the tiny sounds he makes, the warm of his mouth, the rush of his breath.

He has just enough sanity left to be grateful that no one else is likely to come out here, not now, because he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to be able to let go of her.

“Sharon,” he whispers, and kisses her again.

"Right here," she tells him.

Not changing her mind. Not going anywhere. She kisses him back, shifting in his lap, trying to get even closer without tipping them both over and sending them sprawling out of this chair.

His head falls back into her touch at the way she pulls on his hair, and his back arches as he presses closer to her, utterly lost in her.

If she could crystallize one moment from tonight in time, she thinks this would be it. The stars wheeling overhead, the cool crisp air, his steady warmth around and beneath her, the way they've both completely forgotten about anything else but touch and taste and trying to get closer.

The camera stopped clicking a while ago. She has no idea when, but it reminds her that they're still in the chair at the table. "Bucky," she murmurs against his mouth. "I think your picture's finished."

"Hm?" He's forgotten the existence of the camera entirely, and it takes a moment for what Sharon says to make any sense at all. Bucky pulls back, blinking at her in confusion, before it sinks in and he glances reflexively to the side.

"Yeah, it's done," he agrees, and kisses her again.

She grins into his kiss and kisses him back, hands in his hair, clearly considering her duty fulfilled.

When was the last time she was so caught up in someone that all she wanted to do was sit under the stars with them and make out like teenagers? Not since she was a teenager, right?

She doesn't care. He is by far the best thing she's ever had under her hands.

He makes a low sound as she runs her hands back into his hair, drawing him to her, and goes where she wills, however she'll have him, trading kisses with her between breaths, his arm around her waist and his hand on her hip.

"Baby," she says, and kisses along his jaw, down to his neck. "God, I am –"

The taste of salt is sharp on her tongue; his stubble pricks at her lips. She finds the place where his pulse flutters in his throat and fits her mouth over it.

"– crazy about you, you know that?"

"Feeling's mutual," he manages, as his heartbeat stutters and then doubles under the touch of her lips. "Sharon, god--"

"Yes," she tells him, and lifts her right hand from his hair to take his from her hip, slide it up under her shirt onto the skin of her side.

They should go inside. They should clean up. They should, should, should –

But she can't help feeling like being even an inch away from him right now would be the end of the goddamn world.

He runs his thumb back and forth over her ribs as he curves his hand against her side, then draws his fingers forward and settles his hand against her abdomen as he kisses her again.

"Baby," he murmurs, "do you want to go inside?"

She hums acknowledgment into his mouth, but doesn't move. Not yet. She's more drunk on him than she is on the beer she'd been drinking, and she needs to catch her breath, but she doesn't want to.

"We probably should."

That soft hum against his mouth races through him like wildfire. He groans, kisses her again, and slides his hand across her skin, around her body to her back, drawing her closer to him.

Her laugh is breathless as she slips her fingers into his hair, hangs on to him for dear life.

"God, baby, if you keep doing that I don't know if we'll make it inside."

And inside has blankets. His bed. A door that locks... not that anyone's likely to come out this way until they've already left in the morning.

He manages to pull back just a little and lowers his head to her shoulder, breathing rapidly, shivering at the feel of her fingers in his hair.

She's shivering under his hand on her skin, his arm around her, at the warm puff of breath against the bare skin of her shoulder.

"Inside," she murmurs. "In a second. And we can pick right back up again."

He draws a deep, shuddering breath.

"Put your arms around me," he says, as he slides his arm down from her waist to support her weight. "And hold on tight."

She laughs and puts her arms around his neck, shifting her weight into his right arm.

"Ready when you are," she tells him.

He surges to his feet, supporting her against him, kisses her again, then carries her inside.

Bucky sets her down on the bed and leans over to follow her down with another kiss.

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from_the_outside - 2021-05-11 21:34 (UTC) - Expand