ɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ

[uprightness]

STEVE ROGERS;

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[mucked]

Tentative.

[ she insists -- where he needs a victory, she does do. ]

As deals go, it's left rather unsealed.

[ -- which isn't exactly an invitation. but it's not exactly not an invitation either. ]

[uprightness]

It is, isn't it?

[ he takes it for an invitation, pressing close, stealing a longer, deeper kiss, humming happily at the familiar trace of strong tea and the scent of her soap. He clutches her close and his sigh is a happy sound. ]

I've missed you.

[ this, them. ]

[mucked]

[ she wants to wave off his sentiment -- tell him, perhaps, that it's been a week and (in theory) she's been here the whole time. but she also feels it: this preponderance of missing one another. it drives her forward, leaning into his kiss and accepting the break it causes in their conversation.

such as it is. ]

Now you're simply trying to sweet-talk me. [ ... ] It won't work.

[uprightness]

What if it's both a bit of a sweet-talk but also absolutely true?

[ if at first you don't succeed, after all. Having gotten his way, he seems okay with taking his time, now. All in all, this is an important note he's trying to make. ]

Will it work then?

[mucked]

I suppose that rather depends on what you're after, in the end.

[ why he's telling sweet sweet truths and inching his fingers along her skin. oh, she knows. it's been the subject of their little spirited debate for a few minutes now -- but just because she's honest doesn't mean she's nice, and maybe she wants to make him say it. ]

[uprightness]

must I always be after something?

[ oh he's after something but as determined as she is for him to say it, he's equally determined to avoid it. in general, he found that it's healthier for peggy not to get her way too easily - she never seems to enjoy things as much if they fall into her lap without a struggle and so. ]

you make it sound as if I'm to no good.

[mucked]

Aren't you?

[ after something and up to no good both. but the question is asked like a sigh, trailing into a happy sound as she locks her fingers against the nape of his neck, urging him to keep up with his kisses and his ministrations. ]

In this, I trust you about as far as I can throw you.

[ and in all else, she trusts him to the ends of the earth. ]

[uprightness]

That's how it is?

[ but he does sound so very happy, so pleased with her skepticism. or maybe it's simply the slight pressure on his neck that encourages him to press a kiss as well as his next words against the line of neck. ]

how did I ever get a reputation of being untrustworthy?

[ he knows exactly how, he does think of that night rather fondly. ]

[mucked]

You earned it the very night you woke up. [ she huffs, tangling a leg with his and easing dangerously close to comfortable beneath him. ] Don't tell me you've forgotten. I certainly haven't.

[ which is saying more than enough, but the glitch compels her to say more. ]

Don't think I could forget it even if I wanted to.

[ -- press her and she might even use the word remarkable. ]

[uprightness]

One time.

[ he says, brushes a near-kiss against her throat and lifts his head to look at her. ]

One time a person acts out and it earns him a reputation. Besides.

[ he shrugs, his smile is positively boyish. ]

that wasn't my doing.

[mucked]

One very notable time -- [ she corrects him, fingernails dragging light lines against the top of his spine. ] And I'd argue it was about seventy-bloody-percent your doing.

[uprightness]

we're doing math now?

[ but the next sound is a sigh, deep and content. he fidgets above her,a direct response to her touch, arching a bit against it. ]

if that's the case, I'd argue it's eighty-percent your doing. Ninety, even.

[ the very nerve, indeed. ]

[mucked]

Ninety? [ huff! ] How do you reach that figure, I wonder?

[uprightness]

You were wearing my shirt.

[ and apparently this is his only line of reasoning. There's nothing else as nothing else is needed. Steve ‫remembers that night vividly, remembers taking off her ( his ) shirt and the pleasant weight of her in his lap. ]

[mucked]

And you weren't meant to see so. [ it had been such an indulgent thing. missing his scent, missing his heat, missing the certainty of him curled up against her back and always present. ] I can't be blamed for what I never intended to do.

You, on the other hand. [ she draws back; she looks. ] You proceeded with intention.

[uprightness]

Couldn't be helped. I was enticed, it was all lost from the very beginning.

[ he slithers just a bit south, maps the line of her collar bone with short, mindless kisses. ]

It was one hell of a justified intention.

[mucked]

[ -- ordinarily, she'd argue. she'd point out that she'd done none of the enticing. he'd created it all in his head and acted upon it, seduced her (in fact), and got away with it.

but these are ordinary circumstances.

instead, she blurts: ] It was one hell of a night.