ostavil | open post

"Gonna have to figure out some new ways to do this if you're gonna keep me running this hot," Bucky says, catching her mouth in a desperate kiss. He speeds up the movement of his thumb over her clit, impressed with just how wet she is for him, and he really wants to time this just right. He wants to feel her coming on his cock and know he did it, he wants to thrust up into her and have her draw him in deep.

"Tell me what you need, Natalie. Tell me how to make it good for you," he says softly. He kisses her a little rougher now, teeth snagging her full lower lip, and keeps the thrusts of his hips at a steady pace. He wants it to go as long as he can stand before he spills in her since it's probably gonna be the last time tonight.

"Tell me how to get you to come."

She grinned against his mouth; she had a few ideas, but now wasn't the time nor the place to share. Not when Bucky was rocking back against her, working her over with the pad of that roughened thumb, and nipping at her lips when they were already so swollen from his kisses.

Her body was already tightening, working closer and closer to that inevitable cliff, and words were quickly evaporating from her conscious mind. But she moaned and whined at his rougher touches, bouncing her hips a little faster, a little harder, in response. She was close, so close, and she gripped him with her knees, driving herself in a wanton mess atop his cock.

She did manage to call his name over and over, coupled with her nails digging into his shoulders and leaving bright red streaks across his back as she clawed at him. She was almost there...he just had to join her and she could fall completely apart.

Bucky's strokes are getting haphazard now and when he comes, it doesn't feel like shooting off so early as finally getting there after one hell of a romp. He wants to feel Nat coming around him, though, so he's sliding his fingers up and down her clit, making as if he's sucking her off the way she'd done for him earlier.

"Come on, baby girl, I wanna feel you," he chokes out, fucking through his own orgasm and still going in hopes she can get what she needs before he starts to go down. "You feel so good, I just wanna get you there because I want to feel you and see that gorgeous face of yours."

The sudden rush of his climax triggered her own, and Natalia stiffened in James's grasp, her breath coming on short, stilted little gasps as she strained, heaved, and squeezed him tight. Her eyes slammed closed, but she dug her fingernails into his back, driving her hips against his, keening his name in a breathlessly desperate voice.

Lips parted, scarlet framing her face, she rode it out, voice hitching as she shuddered and spasmed in his grasp, taking her pleasure from his own, and she swore it might last forever, so intense and powerful was the shockwave that crashed over her.

When she finally came down, she couldn't even speak; she simply slumped in Bucky's arms, head resting on his shoulder as she fought to corral her galloping her heart, her shaky breath still coming in shallow little gasps.

Bucky strokes his hand along her back, fingertips light and soothing as he can make them. He wants Natalie to feel good and to feel cherished and he hopes that she does. He doesn't think he has another orgasm in him, not even a little bit, and he's smiling contentedly.

"You feeling all right, baby girl? You need anything?"

He reaches for the blanket to tug it up and over them so Natalie doesn't get cold and strokes her hair and her skin while she's coming down. It'd felt so goddamn good to come with her and it's something he's never experienced before.

She purred in sweet contentment, still unable to move about just yet. She went along when James laid them both back down, slipping beneath the bedspread and lying replete and sated in his arms. "...'m good," she murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers and smiling softly. Then she yawned. "Sleepy."

It felt like she could sleep for a week and never stir. Alas that she'd only be able to get a few hours, but they'd be good ones, cradled in these comforting arms. Smoothing a hand through his hair, Natalia let her fingertips then drift across Bucky's face, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, lingeringly.

"We can hold each other while we sleep, da?" Unaware she'd even spoken the word, she didn't wait for an answer; simply cuddled close against him, her arms around his waist and her head nestled beneath his chin. And just before she drifted off into sleep, she unconsciously murmured, "Spokoynoy nochi, moya zvezda..."

Bucky is dimly aware of the words she'd said as she'd fallen asleep and while he's gotten that they're Russian from her Ukrainian grandmother, he wishes he knew what they meant. She says them so tenderly, not in the teasing way she says other things, and he has no idea what that means.

Sleeping with her in his arms is good, though, and when he wakes up the next morning it looks like they haven't moved. Natalie is still curled up against him, mussed hair a crimson halo around her head, and he kisses the top of her head.

"I need to get in the shower, sweetheart. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

At first, she didn't seem to want to let him out of her arms and up. Natalia scrunched her face, eyes still closed, and demurred with a groan, holding him tighter. But consciousness slowly began to penetrate, and she gradually opened her eyes, realizing with an abrupt start just where she was. And blinked, a little pink.

"--oh." And pulled away, tucking the blanket up beneath her arms and slowly sitting up. "Sure. Um...should I...well, I should probably head out, too." She ran a hand through her tangled curls, automatically looking around for her clothes. The room still smelled like sex, very good sex, her traitorous mind supplied, but she had only a few hours before reporting in for work.

...although she didn't exactly bounce right to her feet.

"If you wanna join me, shower's big enough for two," Bucky says, leaning in and kissing her forehead affectionately. "Might save you some time on the way home, at least.

And, frankly, he wasn't quite ready to let her go just yet. Getting his hands on those beautiful curves in the shower was just a bonus. He threads his hand through her soft hair, letting the curls twine around his fingers.

"Can I at least get you a cab? Where do you work - I can go ahead and have it ready and paid for and save you that expense."

Oh, such a temptation. She closed her eyes and purred into his affection, but by some miracle resisted the urge to devour his mouth with hers. But Natalia did stroke his cheek softly, giving him a gentle smile.

"I'd love to, really." But. "But, I need to go by my place first, change of clothes and all that." She went ahead and indulged herself a soft, but brief kiss. "And your friend's probably back by now, and we don't want to wake him up, do we?"

Regretfully - so regretfully - she carefully got out of bed and managed her underwear, at least, foregoing the stockings in favor of expediency. Slipping into her dress, she picked her stockings, gave them a questioning glance, then casually tossed them at James, still seated on the bed.

"To remember me by," she smirked. "Don't lose them, soldier."

Bucky looks down at them and then looks back at her, smirk on his face. Yeah, he'll be keeping these and maybe he'll have the chance to give them back to her some time soon. He softens that smirk into a smile, though, and tips his head with a question.

"I wanted to ask you something before you go - I know you said you got a little Russian from your grandmother. What's moya zveda? You called me that a couple times last night and it sounded kind of sweet when you said it but I didn't know what it was, exactly."

The intimacy of the conversation comes easier to him than he expected and he's curious as to the answer. Maybe it's something like "baby" and just something to say but it'd sounded so much more sincere than that.

She was in the process of pinning back her hair when the question caught her completely off guard. Had she said that? Dimly, she recalled that yes, yes, she had. Her expression went oddly blank for a split second, before she flushed, ducking her head a little girlishly. A contrived blush, something that had taken her ages to conquer.

"It means...it means 'my star', in English." Her mask was slowly slipping back into place; she was once more becoming the smooth, exotic creature from the night previous. "Just a little pet name we used to call each other, when we were younger." Out of all the lies she'd given him, that one had to be the largest.

As if it were nothing more, she turned on her toes and finished pinning her curls, gracefully slipping into her heels and picking up her discarded clutch. "I had a good time," she told him, honest this time, stepping back over and bending down to take a last long kiss for herself. "A very good time, James." And another.

But she made herself step back, smile appropriately, and nod towards his bedroom door. "Wanna walk me out?"

Bucky wonders how many stars she's had over the course of her life it's just a little pet name from her younger days because he's pretty damn sure it wasn't what she called her grandmother. It sounds more like something you'd call a lover and a serious one at that.

He doesn't have time to chew on it, though, because she wants to get walked out and he wants to do it. He dresses quickly in a pair of jeans that have seen better days and tugs a thick cable knit sweater over his head. It's blue, like his eyes, and is probably one of the few things he's let himself splurge on since getting made sergeant.

"I can still get you that cab, moya zveda, he says, trying the words out. He likes it, actually, but he'd only ever use it with her.

It was a little startling, hearing her own words in his mouth. It made her stomach lurch, just enough to be disturbing, and, for the first time, Natalia was actually glad she'd decided to get up and get out. This Bucky Barnes was just too damned tempting for his own good.

She paused at the door, gave him a glance over her shoulder, but had to smile because really, those words sounded beautiful on those lovely lips.

"...I'd like that, James. Spasibo." She chuckled, letting him open the door. "'Thank you', I meant." She took his arm with casual familiarity, covertly admiring that blue sweater, mostly because she knew exactly what lay beneath it. And those soft, faded jeans.

When they reached the sidewalk, however, she gave him a little tug and reached up to take his face in her hands. "You will be careful," she told him. "And come back, you hear? Promise me, James." She more than likely wouldn't be here when he did return, but he still deserved to live his life free of war, pain and death.

"Cross my heart," he says, drawing the little cross over his chest for good measure. "I'd...I'd like to write to you from the front, if you'd think that'd be all right. I don't have a girl and other than my sisters and Steve, I don't know who I would even write to. I'd like to know at least someone was thinking of me back home. Do you think I could do that?"

It's a very personal thing to ask, especially after only one night together, but he doesn't want to let Natalie go. Not like this. Not put in a cab in the early morning where she's nothing but a dream speeding down Franklin instead of something he can carry with him and hold on to. Is this just because he's getting shipped out? Bucky doesn't think so.

He hails the cab and rolls off a few bills before opening her door and bussing a kiss against her cheek. "You wanna give me your address, just call. If not...I'll be thinking about you regardless."

The request, such a simple thing, really, had her absolutely speechless, because never, in all of her training, all of her brutal, razor-sharp training, had anyone educated her on what to do with simple, perfect sincerity. Her tongue, usually so glib and quick to prevaricate, froze to the roof of her mouth, and all Natalia could do was nod, close her eyes when he smooched her cheek, squeeze his hand tightly, pull him back for a single swift kiss, then escape into the waiting taxi before she did something irrevocably unwise.

Such as stay.

But she couldn't, it simply wasn't possible. She was likely in a world of trouble over the past night's transgressions, although she hadn't technically jeopardized her mission in any way. Howard Stark was still her priority one, regardless of a certain pair of lovely blue eyes that kept intruding in her mind's eye, coupled with a smooth Brooklyn baritone that still had the power to make her knees dangerously weak.

She could never see him again. It was the wiser course. For both of their sakes.

Bucky hadn't expected to see her again, honestly, but when he gets his orders he gets another shock in a long string of them over the course of the last month. Steve's gotten recruited for some super soldier program which clearly had worked and he's supposed to be captain over an elite strike team. There's a demo expert, a stealth expert - honestly, Bucky has no idea why he's there since he's not exactly anything special in spite of being a decently ranked officer.

Steve had insisted though and had played up Bucky's scores in marksmanship back in basic so he'd been tasked to learn a couple new sniper rifles and an RPG that was so secret that he had to keep it in pieces inside a trombone case so nobody would get the bright idea to try and steal the damn thing.

One person he hadn't expected with Stark was Natalie, his Natalie, and she was running around like business as usual. Stark's a flirt and Bucky wants to break his fingers every time he touches Natalie but he's got to remember that Natalie is not, in fact, his girl. He manages to catch her during one of his rare breaks and they're semi alone.

"I didn't know you worked for him," Bucky says softly.

She'd thrown herself back into her assignment after that fateful morning. Stark's laboratory and armory had never run smoother. The busier she kept herself, the less she was able to remember. Save for when she collapsed into bed in the early morning hours, and let herself get lost in blue eyes, sweet kisses, and gentle hands. But in truth, Stark's work for the military had all of his staff working long hours, irregular and secretive.

But the biggest shock she'd never expected to have occurred some eight days after she left James Barnes standing on the sidewalk; Stark had agreed to outfit one of the Army's new elite units with some of his prototype weaponry and defensive arrays, and she was more than a little stunned to nearly run right into a pair of baby-blue eyes she'd recognize blindfolded.

Thank God Howard didn't give her much time to dwell, however; they had to outfit several commandos in less than forty-eight hours. Which required precise measurements for each soldier. She worked close at Howard's elbow, taking down his rambling notes and making sense of his scatter-brained babblings for explanation later.

And naturally, she found herself in a small alcove with a certain Sergeant while the others drifted here and there, Howard and the Major having gone off to tend to some small but important issue in his office. She was hyper-aware of those eyes on her, felt the weight of their touch, even. But she was determined to keep her demeanor politely professional, even when the opening salvo came.

She glanced up from her clipboard, gave him a slight smile, and shrugged lightly. "You didn't ask."

"But you had to have known I was being recruited," Bucky presses on, not really sure where they stand. He'd thought he'd get orders to the front, not something special like this, and he has no idea how or why he's ended up with Stark's elite unit other than being friends with Steve and possibly through Natalie. He thinks it's much more likely it's the former; Steve could sell him as an ice supplier to eskimos and be successful.

"I'm supposed to get fitted for some new kind of armor. I'm not going to be wearing fatigues," Bucky says, shrugging a little. "They're making me a sniper because I've got a good eye and steady hands." It's sort of a strange thing to think about, being out of the way of hand to hand combat while Steve's in the thick of it, but he's got his orders.

"Anyway, I don't mean to keep you. I was just surprised to see you again because I figured...well, as much as I wanted, I figured you didn't want to bother considering my number'd be coming up soon.

"I know. I need your measurements. Turn around." She unwrapped a measuring tape from her wrist and began taking measurements, across the shoulders, down each arm, torso, waist, hips, and length of leg. She kept her movements precise and professional, never mind how her hands wanted to linger, perhaps wander, reacquaint themselves with the body beneath that dress uniform.

"Howard didn't get the updated roster until late last night. He's been running himself ragged, trying to fill all these requisition orders." She made a few notes on her clipboard. "I knew about Erskine's experiment with Captain Rogers, Howard had to assist on that one, since it was his machine that they used..." and here she paused, pen in hand. "...but I didn't know Rogers was your friend, James."

And she hadn't.

A brief glance across the room revealed the other soldiers kibitzing among themselves; Stark and the Major were still in his office, now with Captain Rogers with them, too.

She crossed her arms over the clipboard, holding it against her chest. "...it wasn't like that. That I didn't want to bother, James." She kept her voice low, hushed. "I just...didn't think it was the best decision. You were leaving, and..."

"Natalie! Natalie, come here a minute, would ya?"

Howard's voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she immediately stiffened, whirled around in a flare of red curls and hurried over, holding out her notes for Stark to take and all but usher her into the office with the others.

No, it's for the better, Bucky thinks, watching as Natalie strolls off toward Stark. He's famous for skirt chasing, Howard Stark, and whatever charms Bucky might have offered in bed probably weren't anything near what Natalie was getting from Howard Stark - personal relationship or not. Natalie seems smart enough to be on her own merit and not just a pretty piece for Howard to look at so it's probably the job that's keeping her busy and nothing else. Still.

He ends up going to dinner with Steve who, predictably, figured out something was wrong and when Bucky had pointed out it was girl trouble, Steve made the wise decision to politely bow out. Neither of them were good with girls, it seemed. Still, Bucky has a few ideas and when he gets a moment to sneak away in a day or two, he gets Natalie a box of chocolate and a dozen roses. She's got a little temporary office set up just outside Stark's so he makes his way there, glad to see her head bent over paperwork.

"Do you have a minute, Natalie?"

She'd been buried in Stark's transcripts for the past three hours. Her eyes hurt, her wrist cramped, but she had to get these notes transposed before close of business, because Howard and his entire staff would be headed for Nazi Germany in just thirty-six short hours. So she soldiered on, pausing only for the occasional swallow of lukewarm coffee here and there.

A knock on the door facing brought her blinking out of Howard's scrawling script, and she blinked in surprised to see James Barnes just outside, flowers and a predictable box in his hands. One of her eyebrows went up, and she leaned back in her chair slightly, letting her cramped wrist rest on the desk for a moment.

"Sergeant Barnes. How can I help you?"

Howard was puttering about somewhere, working on adjustments for the Commandos' final designs, and Jarvis was lurking as usual, to say nothing of the military brass constantly coming and going. Sometimes it seemed like a Moscow train station, rather than a highly-classified scientific laboratory.

It's perfectly professional, the nice and crisp Sergeant Barnes, but Bucky feels like it shouldn't be. He's been with her, tangled up in her for a whole night and he feels like he ought to at least be Bucky if he's not the James that she'd favored that night. Still, he's here with flowers and candy and there's no way to pretend they aren't hers. It'd be stupid to even attempt a lie,

"Just thought maybe I should bring you something to perk you up," Bucky says finally. "Probably too forward of me and I know it but I couldn't - I just wanted to get you something. Spoil you a little bit."

As far as he's seen at Stark's compound so far, he's the only one interested in Natalie. "I wanted to get you something to tell you I enjoyed our night out, moya zveda. Did I say it right?"

She knew she should stop this. Shut him down cold and never, ever see him again. Because he was dangerous. Not physically or professionally, but dangerous all the same. It was his goodness, his sincerity. She couldn't afford it. No matter how much she might yearn for it.

So it took her completely by surprise when she found herself rising from her chair, coming around the desk to invite him into her small closet-sized office, taking the presents from him and placing both on her desk, though she did pause to sniff at the lovely flowers. Then she gently closed the door, flipped its tiny lock, and pulled closed the blinds on both the outward facing windows and the window in the hallway.

Then she was in his arms, shoving the cap off of his head to sink her fingers into his dark hair, pulling him down to meet her lips in a desperate, messy kiss. "Moya zvezda," she corrected breathlessly. "I've missed you, James. What took you so long?"

"Zvezda, he corrects himself, trying to remember the pronunciation. He thinks he might ought to get a Russian dictionary at this point if he's going to date Natalie. And oh, is he going to date her. In his mind, there's no reason not to date while he's training here with Stark.

"I was... I didn't think you were still interested," Bucky says. He realizes it's stupid almost as soon as he says it, though, and draws her into another long kiss to mask his embarrassment.

"Didn't know how to make it clear I was."

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