(no subject)

[outstandingbalance]

Who: Natasha Romanoff + you (+ maybe some Bucky Barnes)
Broadcast: Video
Action: Mostly no, but we could work something out.
When: Now

[The video feed start, focusing tightly on Natasha's face, the only visible backdrop a rather generic portion of cabin wall.]

So checking the date, seems like it's been a while. Nice to see everyone's back in the air. Hopefully in one piece. I see a few people have left.

Anyone want to fill me in on the important details? Or should we let sleeping dogs—

[The sound of a door cuts her off the, and Natasha looks up. Whoever she sees, her expression softens. She smiles slightly, lifting her chin slightly and turning her head to catch a kiss from some loser tall enough that only the lower half of his face makes it in the frame. The stubble on his chin and the shape of his mouth might be enough to identify him though.]

A lot of catching up to d—

[Suddenly the feed cuts out.]

Comments

[reconstitution]

[ Until the words are out of his mouth, he's not sure he would have said it, either. He wants to be able to say it and mean it-- he does mean it, but it's such a new and vulnerable thing. The simplest touch could shatter everything, and Bucky is damn certain he's going to be the one that fucks everything up beyond repair.

There's silence, the only sound is their breathing and the ambient noises of the ship. Her eyes are on them and her expression is unreadable. He has a brief moment of doubt before all of it gets thrown to the side. His arms come up around her waist and returns the kiss, wondering why the hell he'd thought that this was it. Natasha is just as invested in this as he is, which may or may not be more dangerous.

He doesn't care. They can have this. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[It's a rush. For months now, this has been building, unspoken, too precious to put a name to, too delicate and too forbidden, too strange. Natasha had never intended it to be a secret, per se, but there has always been a specific vulnerability. The sense that if she put a name to the feelings Barnes stirred in her, she risked having it taken away.

She couldn't lose something if she never quite admitted she had it in the first place.

But that also meant holding back, never acknowledging the depth of her feelings or the resonance of the sympathy between them.

Now she molds herself against his chest, fitting as though made to be there, and if the shape of his body isn't new to her that doesn't lessen the way she savors it. Acknowledging her feelings and knowing, actually hearing, their return thrills her in a way she couldn't have imagined. It's all maddeningly licit. She can be normal, a woman in love with a man, who returns her affection.

It's intoxicating human.]