oh jesus. PSL is highly appropriate.angryinsecretAugust 11 2012, 19:17:12 UTC
It had taken Bruce all of his courage to invite Natasha over for dinner, and not just because of the date aspect - he wasn't the best cook. So he'd cheated and had all of the food delivered before she'd arrived.
Now they were down to dessert, an oversized piece of chocolate cheesecake, and all was going swimmingly, he thought.
She figured out pretty easily he didn't cook, but she didn't care. Bruce didn't need to be a master chef to impress her. He'd already done that just by being himself. Living with something like The Hulk inside you was something Natasha respected, admired even. He was stronger than almost any other man she'd ever met.
"Where'd you get that?" Tasha eyes the massive dessert. "And where's your piece?" She adds with a little smile.
"My piece? You're looking at it." He had brought two forks, so he puts one in each hand, as if he's going to two-fist the cake. He would do it, too, if it would make her laugh. He enjoys hearing her laugh; she does not do it nearly often enough.
"I assumed you were too health-conscious to eat something like this."
Normally she is. Natasha knows her body is her most valuable asset, and she treats it like the proverbial temple. But even she can be a little naughty. "Oh, I don't think so." She smirks and makes a grab for the plate. "You need to learn to share, Banner."
Any other man in any other situation would have broken fingers after doing that. Natasha squeals (yes, squeals. What?) frantically wiping at her face, probably only making the mess worse. She did put effort into looking better than usual tonight. "What is wrong with you?" Tasha whines (Yes...whines. WHAT?!) before shoving him playfully, not caring about the cake now all over her hands.
He is so stunned by her shockingly girly behavior he doesn't even try to fight off her cakey hands.
"Wrong with me? Look what you just did to my shirt!" And it was his favorite purple one too, the one he'd bought to replace the one shredded on the helicarrier when he Hulked out.
"There's no use in fighting it, Natasha," he says, his voice dropping a step lower than usual. He manages to wrangle her flailing limbs, holding her by the wrists.
"Just think of it as camo. You like wearing black, don't you?" In a moment of inspired daring that he would look back up on later with awe, he pulls her hand to his mouth and sucks the tasty cake off of her index finger - and then her thumb.
"You look terrible in purple." She's teasing, laughing as she tries to clean off her hands. What is it about sugary desserts?
There's a moment of anxiety when he catches her wrists. Natasha nearly panics, the haunting memories of when he 'Hulked out' as they say on the hellicarrier slamming to the front of her mind. Natasha shivers, and it's not all from fear. They're playing such a dangerous game. She's read the file, she knows what makes him lose control of it and... there's no use fighting it... What does he mean?
Then he does...THAT! Natasha's body goes from tense to slack in less than a second, the feeling of his mouth, his lips on her fingers her purr out a little moan of content bliss. It feels amazing. It's sexy and sweet and cute and... and.... perfect.
"Fuck." It's in Russian. If he can even understand Russian she doesn't know. Suddenly fear is the last thing on her mind and all she can think about is Bruce and his lips and his tongue and...
No...
NO!"Bruce!" Natasha says sharply, pulling her hand away from his mouth in
( ... )
He wants to grab her again. He wants to tell her that her fears are unfounded, that he has himself undercontrol, and that she is safe with him. But he cannot lie to her. He watches as she gathers her things, grappling with what he knows and what he desires.
"Please don't go," he says softly. He sits back in his chair, hands where she can see them. Words don't exist to tell her how he feels when she is around - how she makes him feel like he doesn't have to be alone for the rest of his life. He needs her, her light and her warmth.
It's not his hands she's afraid of. The gesture of surrender, in a way, makes her feel even worse. She's bent men to her own devices countless times in her past, twisted them around her perfectly manicured finger and tugged them exactly where she wants them. This, of course, isn't the case. She doesn't want Bruce to change, but she doesn't want her being in his life to make it that much harder. Natasha cares about him, and she thinks she's no good for him.
Don't go...I need you. It hits her like a bullet in the chest. Natasha can't find air in her lungs and her purse and jacket are on the floor a second later as she turns to face him. "No." She shakes her head vehemently though her voice is soft, nearly timid. "I am not what you need, Bruce. I am the last thing in the world anybody who knows what's good for them needs, especially you."
He at her and shook his head. "You're wrong. You're exactly what I need... what I needed. You were the only one. Anyone else would have said no to Coulson, but you didn't. You came for me even though you were terrified. You showed me that it's possible to not let your fear make your decisions."
He held his hand out to her. "You convinced me to stop hiding. Now it's my turn to do the same for you. Stay."
"No one said no to Coulson if they knew what was good for them." She grabs onto that statement because it's easier than thinking about all the things he's saying about her, about them. Natasha looks at him, sheer determination in her eyes. "I was never afraid of dying, not until I came to SHIELD." She takes a cautious step closer. "Barton...and Coulson, they showed me there was a way to do what I do and help people. They gave me a chance to have a real life, to be a real person and not someone's tool."
Even so she didn't really live the life she wanted so badly. She's too afraid it will blow up in her face. "Stay?" Natasha looks down at his hand, worrying her bottom lip as she stares. "What do you mean stay? Bruce...what..." She looks at him with the same fear in her eyes she had when she thought he'd hulk out. "What do you want from me?" She's not sure she can be what he needs, or what it is he even needs at all."
He doesn't waver in his gaze, and he doesn't lower his hand.
"Nothing. Just be you, be the same Natasha you've always been. And be it here." Now that he knows what it feels like to be around others again, he's practically afraid of being alone. He doesn't want to get low again, especially since he has proof that there's no way out of it.
Just be you... It hits her harder than she expects. So few people in her life has ever told her what she was was perfectly alright to be. She never believes anyone when they tell her that that's alright anyway.
Natasha looks at his hand, the silent invitation to stay. Stay here with him. For dessert, for the night, for...oh she doesn't know. Does it even matter?
She swallows back her fear, her guilt and her doubt before she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips onto his for a hard yet brief kiss. "I'll stay." Tasha says softly, looking away from him. "Thank you...for being honest."
"No." She blurts out without thinking it through. Yes, he made her uncomfortable but at the same time be makes her feel more comfortable than she's felt in far too long. Natasha hasn't moved from being right next to him, and when he does her heart sinks a bit. Did she misjudge him, his intentions? Is he just another man she managed to make act stupid with sexual desire? Fuck. That's not what she wanted at all.
"What do you want from me?" She asks again, pulling the cake from his hands as she does. "Don't lie to me." Natasha says firmly, searching his eyes before she asks. "Do you want...what you did before and what i did just now to happen again?"
Now they were down to dessert, an oversized piece of chocolate cheesecake, and all was going swimmingly, he thought.
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"Where'd you get that?" Tasha eyes the massive dessert. "And where's your piece?" She adds with a little smile.
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"My piece? You're looking at it." He had brought two forks, so he puts one in each hand, as if he's going to two-fist the cake. He would do it, too, if it would make her laugh. He enjoys hearing her laugh; she does not do it nearly often enough.
"I assumed you were too health-conscious to eat something like this."
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"How's that for sharing?" he asks between chuckles. Chocolate Natasha nose looks absolutely delicious.
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"Wrong with me? Look what you just did to my shirt!" And it was his favorite purple one too, the one he'd bought to replace the one shredded on the helicarrier when he Hulked out.
"There's no use in fighting it, Natasha," he says, his voice dropping a step lower than usual. He manages to wrangle her flailing limbs, holding her by the wrists.
"Just think of it as camo. You like wearing black, don't you?" In a moment of inspired daring that he would look back up on later with awe, he pulls her hand to his mouth and sucks the tasty cake off of her index finger - and then her thumb.
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There's a moment of anxiety when he catches her wrists. Natasha nearly panics, the haunting memories of when he 'Hulked out' as they say on the hellicarrier slamming to the front of her mind. Natasha shivers, and it's not all from fear. They're playing such a dangerous game. She's read the file, she knows what makes him lose control of it and... there's no use fighting it... What does he mean?
Then he does...THAT! Natasha's body goes from tense to slack in less than a second, the feeling of his mouth, his lips on her fingers her purr out a little moan of content bliss. It feels amazing. It's sexy and sweet and cute and... and.... perfect.
"Fuck." It's in Russian. If he can even understand Russian she doesn't know. Suddenly fear is the last thing on her mind and all she can think about is Bruce and his lips and his tongue and...
No...
NO!"Bruce!" Natasha says sharply, pulling her hand away from his mouth in ( ... )
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"Please don't go," he says softly. He sits back in his chair, hands where she can see them. Words don't exist to tell her how he feels when she is around - how she makes him feel like he doesn't have to be alone for the rest of his life. He needs her, her light and her warmth.
"I'm sorry. Please, Natasha. I... I need you."
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Don't go...I need you. It hits her like a bullet in the chest. Natasha can't find air in her lungs and her purse and jacket are on the floor a second later as she turns to face him. "No." She shakes her head vehemently though her voice is soft, nearly timid. "I am not what you need, Bruce. I am the last thing in the world anybody who knows what's good for them needs, especially you."
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He held his hand out to her. "You convinced me to stop hiding. Now it's my turn to do the same for you. Stay."
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Even so she didn't really live the life she wanted so badly. She's too afraid it will blow up in her face. "Stay?" Natasha looks down at his hand, worrying her bottom lip as she stares. "What do you mean stay? Bruce...what..." She looks at him with the same fear in her eyes she had when she thought he'd hulk out. "What do you want from me?" She's not sure she can be what he needs, or what it is he even needs at all."
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"Nothing. Just be you, be the same Natasha you've always been. And be it here." Now that he knows what it feels like to be around others again, he's practically afraid of being alone. He doesn't want to get low again, especially since he has proof that there's no way out of it.
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Natasha looks at his hand, the silent invitation to stay. Stay here with him. For dessert, for the night, for...oh she doesn't know. Does it even matter?
She swallows back her fear, her guilt and her doubt before she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips onto his for a hard yet brief kiss. "I'll stay." Tasha says softly, looking away from him. "Thank you...for being honest."
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"I'm sorry I let things get out of hand. I obviously pushed you past a point where you're comfortable. It won't happen again."
He retrieved the slightly mangled cake and held the second fork out to her. "Dessert's still here if you want it."
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"What do you want from me?" She asks again, pulling the cake from his hands as she does. "Don't lie to me." Natasha says firmly, searching his eyes before she asks. "Do you want...what you did before and what i did just now to happen again?"
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