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Natasha had to concede the idea, but she gave a small shrug in response. "Don't count on it. Tony Stark's not God. He doesn't call all of the shots just yet." Especially when it came to Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow was a force to be reckoned with, and she didn't have Stark's admittedly-camouflaged morals. Or ethics.

"If you do well enough here, I can probably keep you here, provided you want to stay." The small redhead swallowed another bite of chicken, then a slow sip of water. "Steve would advocate it, and Wilson, too." Despite what Barnes might think, the rest of the team did have his best interests at heart.

Just...letting the past go was difficult, for some.

"He's not your enemy," Natasha told Bucky quietly, about Stark. "He's just..." she sighed, giving a small shake of her head. "...complicated."

"I killed his parents. Not too complicated," Bucky says. He pushes his food around on his plate and tries to figure out what to say after that. There's not much. His bloody history as the Winter Soldier is well known and feared and everyone knows he can be just as dangerous in rut as he'd been then. He can at least control his own mind during rut, though, and couldn't as the soldier.

"He hates me and he should. I think he's scared of me, too, and everyone should be. I have a bomb in my head and it needs to be disarmed. Until it is, I'm a danger to everyone except my omega and I've never been mated so there's not one to talk me out of my programming. HYDRA tried a few times, you know? They wanted to breed me. Didn't work. I just kept getting more unstable every time they tried. So they eventually stopped trying and just popped me on ice whenever I had a cycle. This is the first one I've had in a long time."

He exhales and looks over at Natasha directly. "But if they let me, I would stay here. It's better here than it is there. I feel a little less like a prisoner."

"You're not a prisoner," Natasha informed him firmly, shifting on the couch so she could face him directly. "You've been exonerated by the United States government for extenuating circumstances, so legally, you're a free man." Granted... "Granted, with a metric ton of PTSD, and yes, you need help, and therapy, and a lot of time to rehabilitate, but..."

She trailed off, assimilating everything.

"--let's just see how the week goes, da? We can't fix anything else until we get you through your rut. So, no more talk about the past or the future, okay. Let's just focus on the now." She took his plate, placed it with hers, and put both on the coffee table, then turned back to the despairing Alpha and cradled his face in her hands.

"Just focus on me, da?" A soft kiss, sweet. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving." Another kiss, gentle as the first. "I'll be with you, James. Promise."

"I wanna protect you right now," Bucky admits. "My hormones are swinging to protective right now and I wanna keep you close and make sure you're okay. I know I'll need to fuck you later but right now it's just...the other side of it, you know?"

The kiss is soft, though, and sweet, and Bucky revels in it for a moment before they pull away. She's gonna be with him. This gonna be okay.

"Can I do that?"

"Of course you can," she granted, rubbing her nose with his. "I...have no idea how you even can - there aren't any threats here." An eyebrow quirked. "But if you wanna, I dunno, brush my hair or something, I won't say no."

Natasha instinctively offered him her throat, guiding his head to the pulsing gland just above her pulse. "Scent me," she invited. "That'll definitely help." And the sensation of his nose and lips against her skin was a thrilling sensation, she'd discovered.

Bucky does want to scent her so when she offers her throat, he leans in and presses his lips and nose against her and inhales the scent of her and instantly feels better. The scent of oranges and dark chocolate suffuses him and just makes him feel like everything is going to be all right, at least for a little while. It's sexy to him, too, but more comforting right now.

"I'll brush your hair," he whispers against her neck. "And brush your hair. And build you a nest so you have a safe place away from me when I'm really all over the place. I'll take care of you, Natasha."

She noticed that his own sharper scent began to soften, and Natasha simply held still and let him soothe himself with her smell. She threaded a small hand through Bucky's shaggy hair, running her fingernails lightly across his scalp as he whispered, prompting her acquiescing smile.

"That sounds good," she told him, gentle teeth grazing across the top of his earlobe. "But I don't think I'll need a fort to keep you out, malyshka." Her soft laugh feathered between them. "I'm not afraid of you, James. So you don't have to worry about me, da?"

"Everyone else is," he murmurs. "You're the only one who doesn't think I have a bomb in my head about to go off at any moment. You...it feels nice to be trusted. At least as much as you do with your body."

Trust goes in a lot of ways and maybe she doesn't trust him to have her back in a fight or to have a key to her place or anything like that but she trusts him during his rut and that's big enough for him.

"I could love you so easily, Natasha. I'm sure you know that, right? That rut makes me just wanna bond?"

"I know," she admitted. And she did. But. "But, it's smarter not to get attached right now. You still have a lot to work through, and I'm...well," her smile turned a little crooked. "I'm damaged goods anyway." And besides, all of this was just his rut talking.

"That's just your hormones talking," she reassured him, still petting. "Who knows, your next rut, you'll probably find some sweet little Omega from Brooklyn and settle down in a brownstone and picket fence." The idyllic dream.

"Not good enough for a girl like that," Bucky admits. "I've got a lot of blood on my hands, Natasha, and a sweet little omega like that needs a good guy, not someone like me." He leans into her touch, craving it. He knows it's his hormones causing this but it feels good anyway.

"You're not damaged, Natasha. No more than I am. We're the perfect kind of fit. No one else would understand me, you know? But I know it's my hormones doing all the talking right now. I'll be more logical later and not be throwing myself on you. I'm sorry."

Natasha shrugged. "You never know." She wasn't going to let him dwell, damnit. "People can be forgiving, James, if you give them a chance." It felt strange, advocating that humanity was decent, but someone had to help bring the man out of the Dark Ages. IE HYDRA.

"Stop apologizing," she chided him again. "I know where all this is coming from, so just let it flow on by, da? Let's put up the leftovers, then, I dunno, watch a movie or something? You can fix us a nest in the bedroom, and we'll cuddle until we fall asleep. Sound good?"

"I know where it's coming from. Rejection just hurts, even imagined rejection. I'll put the food up. You sit there. I know you're capable of helping but I need to do this stuff right now or I won't keep calm and you probably don't want another round of before."

Maybe if he can keep doing the soft, protective things, he won't need sex again. It's a stupid hope because no one can stop the sex drive of an Alpha in full rut but he thinks he can at least try. He gathers up the containers and puts them away in the fridge before taking their plates and loading the dishwasher. When he's done, he offers a hand to Natasha.

"All right. Show me your nesting stuff. If you don't have any, I'm going to have to improvise."

Natasha remained on the couch as asked, casually finger-combing her still-damp curls until Bucky was done in the kitchen. She took the offered hand without qualm, heading down the small hallway to the bedroom once more.

"There are blankets and extra pillows in the closet," she informed him, shrugging out of her bathrobe and slipping into a thin chemise and soft short-shorts. Perfect for snuggling and sleeping. "I...well, I haven't really been in heat for a good while," decades, really, "but that stuff would suffice. And maybe some snacks, bottled water, that sort of thing."

"I'll get you set up," Bucky says. This is what he needs to do right now and he's gonna do it even if it's more to make him feel better than to help Natasha since she's not in heat right now. He finds himself wishing she was, though. She smells sweet enough but he wants the overpowering scent of her in his nose, the cloying way it lingers when an omega is in heat. God. It would be amazing.

"I bet you smell so good in heat," Bucky says and then he immediately wants to take it back. Jesus. He should not have said that. Maybe he can just chalk it up to Alpha hormones.

"I'd bury my fucking face in you." Yup. Hormones. He busies himself with getting snacks and setting up the blankets and pillows for them and then gets Natasha. "Come on, I've got it set up."

Later, she'd let herself be concerned over Barnes' unthought babble. For now, thank God, she could chalk it up to his hormones, raging beneath his skin. Never mind that the thought of James Barnes' head between her legs while she burned with heat made her pause for a minute second, while her eyes slowly crossed at the blatant thrill of that mental image.

"...um..." was all she managed, but then he called her over to the bed, where he'd set up a nice little spot for them to cuddle, and gingerly crawled into bed, taking care not to muss his hard work. "Did you find us something to watch?" Change the subject; go for the grapes and cubed cheese. "I have Netflix, Disney, Tubi, Hulu, all the goodies."

"Yeah, I thought we could just watch Notting Hill. I haven't seen it but it's apparently good. It's a romantic movie, I always liked those." Girls always liked them and Bucky spent most of his time in the '30s and '40s in theaters with girls so it's what he knows.

"Is that okay or do you want something else? Because I can pick something else if you think it would be weird."

Bucky doesn't think it will be but he doesn't know how Natasha feels about it.

"It's okay. I like Hugh Grant. And Julia Roberts." Natasha honestly doubted things could get any weirder than they'd already been, so a romcom wasn't that far out in the field. She settled on her side with her snacks, offering the bowl between them to share, and it wasn't entirely by accident that she listed over to lightly rest against his left side, completely unconcerned about the cool metal.

"I'll have to invest in some popcorn," she remarked a few minutes later. "There's nothing like a good flick and some caramel corn. Especially if we're gonna make it a thing." Then she reached over and placed a small hand on Bucky's thigh. "But these snacks are really good, too. We can go grocery shopping tomorrow." She snorted a small laugh. "...if we ever make it out of bed."

Because she had no doubt he'd want sex later, and Alphas in rut could go like diesel engines when roused.

Bucky had been all right and evened out while having dinner and building the nest but one touch of Natasha's small hand against his thigh reminds him that he's in full rut and he wants her body to sate himself. Jesus. He can't be doing this over and over, can he? She's not even his mate.

"Be careful with that hand," he says instead and he knows his voice is a little tight. "Might not finish a movie if you push it."

Clearly she's aware of the reasons behind that.

There we go. Natasha laughed softly, trailing her fingertips over that muscled thigh before slowly pulling away, shrugging a slim shoulder. "That's okay, too," she advised him. "We can always start it over if we need to." Which was basically permission given, if he needed to fuck her.

Setting aside the grapes and cheese, Natasha returned to lean over and gently kiss Bucky's cheek. "You can fuck me if you need to, y'know." A quiet reminder. "You don't have to hold back if it gets to be too much." She'd volunteered for it, after all.

"I don't wanna use you," Bucky says, busying himself with eating grapes for a moment before looking at her. Natasha is beautiful. He's always loved redheads and it particularly suits her with her soft, pale skin. Her body is amazing and she smells better than anyone he's ever scented.

"I like you, Natasha. It's not the same as someone you just casually know and have a fling with. There's something about how you smell that I can't put my finger on but it's different than anyone else I've ever smelled. They tried to mate me when I was the soldier and no one smelled right. No one did before the war, either. But you do."

Bucky shrugs. "So I don't want to use you."

An eyebrow went up. Well, that was admirable, but not really relevant, was it. Because if he didn't fuck someone, he'd end up in a feral bloodrage, and she really didn't want to have to bring him down out of such an extreme state. Because extreme states required extreme measures.

"I appreciate that, James," she told him, scooting a little closer. And her hand returned to its former place on his thigh, the movie forgotten. "But you're forgetting something, malyshka. I want you to fuck me." It wasn't a chore, it wasn't an ordeal. She'd volunteered for it, after all.

Her voice fell to a whisper; soft, low. "I liked it when we did, earlier. A lot, baby. A lot."

Natasha's moved her hand back onto his thigh and he takes in a sharp breath because her hand is so close to his cock and it does not take much when he's in rut. Not one bit. Even having her hand on his leg and not doing anything particularly sexual with it would have done it and this is definitely sexual.

She'd liked it earlier. Bucky could tell she didn't hate it, of course, but to be told that she'd liked it and wanted more makes it a lot different. He knows his face is still conflicted but he covers the hand on his thigh with his own.

"I could use something right now, yeah. I was trying to hold out."

"Don't," she told him, slowly riding her hand upwards along his bunched thigh. "Let it go, and let's take care of it." To that end, she slid down amid the nest of pillows, reached up and coaxed him down over her, firmly winding a leg around his hip.

"You're not a bad partner, James," Natasha breathed, moist against his mouth. "A little messed up in the head, but hey, I can deal with it, da?" An impish grin and then she kissed him, opening her mouth for his tongue while rucking her lower body upwards to roll against his.

God. This isn't going to last long before it's at 100 if Natasha keeps rolling up against him like that. Bucky reaches between them to undo his jeans and pushes them down, needing less clothing between them. He's already half hard and she's barely done anything. He thought he might get away with a blow job or something but now he knows he's going to have to knot her to get any relief.

"Gonna have to go all the way and knot you," he warns her. "Can't just get away with my hand or your mouth or something. Too worked up." She'd signed up for this, sure, but he doesn't want her to get sore because he's wearing her out.

"Is that okay?"

His jeans disappeared and so did her shorts, all fabric impediments removed. He was already thick and hard against her bare thigh, and Natasha lifted that leg to rub against his eager cock, just to both entice and give a little relief.

"Da," was her quiet response, spreading her knees to cradle his heavy body between them. "Just, remember, no teeth." Her only stipulation. Because neither she nor Bucky was ready to deal with a mating bond. Or even the semblance of one.

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