[ he realizes what she's about to do a split second before she does it. He manages to dodge that punch but not the arm that snakes around his elbow. He aims for her legs, tries to shake her balance. ]
Not sure I can really try not to be kissed by you.
[ -- a brief grunt (possibly a non-verbal shut up) punctuated her missed punch. peggy yanks hard on his arm, thrusting it back from his side. whatever misgivings he feels about hurting her, she clearly doesn't share them -- but only because she realizes it would take a monumental effort for her to inflict anything he couldn't simply soak.
his foot catches her ankle. she wobbles for a moment, but recovers. side-steps, still with her arm locked in his. cliched, perhaps, but she attempts to drive his elbow towards the middle of his back. ]
[ it doesn't come as a surprise, the ferocity of her attacks. he wasn't expecting anything less. one thing he knows, the key to a quick victory is getting her on the mat. Once there, it'll just be a matter of keeping her down.
if his Christmas day is going to go as planned, he can't spend this match playing defense. he struggles against her grip and instead of freeing his arm by shaking her off, he leans forward, roots himself and pushes back against her grip, aims to send both his elbow and her arm towards her middle, take the hit or let go, seems to be the message. ]
[ considering her odds, peggy takes the hit. he shoves back into her sternum and there's a second grunt (exertion; not pain -- not precisely). paradoxically, her sigh is a happy one. she feels good about being challenged. feels even better about tightening her grip on his elbow. she's a bit winded, granted, but she's scrappy.
peggy shoves a foot between his calves and tries to snag his ankle. he tried to topple her backwards; she tries to topple him forwards. ]
[ they have different advantages over each other. she's quicker than him to initiate offenses , leaving him obligated to respond to her own before he has a chance to go through with his. if he's not careful, one of those might take him by surprise and that will be the end of it.
he sways for a flicker of a second before balancing himself again, pressing his weight down on his feet and moves both hands to her hips and it could have been the beginning of a dance if it weren't for him trying to turn her, to wrap an arm securely around her middle and immobilize the next attack. ]
You know, this isn't what most people do with their girlfriends on Christmas morning.
[ he manages, all the while. trying to get a good grip of her. ]
[ he easily gets his arm around her. a little too easily, maybe, though she counts on him assuming that it's always easy when trying to snag his arms around someone without superpowers. facing away from him -- pulled hard against his front -- she fills her lungs with air. ]
No? What's expected, then, of most people's girlfriends on a Christmas morning? [ sharp. sardonic, certainly. and a little suggestive, perhaps, as she quickly pivots at her waist and tries to toss him over her shoulder -- let his own weight throw him down, so to speak. ]
[ he strains against her, manages to keep his grip on her waist. ]
Cookies, maybe a bit of that tea -
[ and then she shifts and he loses balance altogether; she sends him over towards the mat and instincts guide him into a roll that ends with a quick jump onto his feet again. ]
[ she straightens -- lighter on her feet, now, than she is when merely striding through the starstruck's halls. for now, they're only testing each other's boundaries. he's been grappling and shoving and wrapping his arms around her but he hasn't been hitting. not really.
peggy comes at him again. right hook swinging. ] The mistletoe's merely an excuse.
[ suggesting -- with a half-smile as she throws her punch -- that he's welcome to kiss her without it at any time. ]
the first priority is dodging that fist. he may not know everything about her tactics in hand-to-hand combat but he knows her right hook is vicious. his own is directed at her shoulder. ]
[ she drops her shoulder -- his punch catches her high. not so squarely in the joint, perhaps, but it still hurts like hell. a pained huff, but she's still on her feet. peggy uses the lingering momentum of forward movement to shove herself bodily against his chest. like a footballer, charging forward for the tackle.
all her tactics suggest one thing: she wants him on the ground. clearly, she suspects she'll have some advantage there that isn't afforded to her as long as steve still has his feet. ]
[ he anticipates another punch, not her wrestling him to the mat. there is a sudden huff of air as he tumbles, catching her by the waist and dragging her own with him as he does. he ends up on his back, trying to roll and trap her beneath him while also reaching for her hands, trying to catch her wrists before she sends another punch his way. ]
[ funny, really, how things work out. as intimacy goes, this is perhaps as spirited and as lively as they've gotten. adrenaline courses. her pulse is up. if pressed, she'd deny it but there's something devilishly alluring about expending so much energy with him.
it doesn't cause her to take her eyes off the prize, however, and she's quick to wriggle at least one wrist free from his grip. peggy shoves at his chest with a hard elbow, trying to balance above him and resist his attempt to roll her.
it works -- for about seven seconds, and then she finds herself thrust suddenly onto her back. flat against the mat. there's no time for surprise: she cocks her knee and drives it into his stomach -- only aiming higher than his groin at the last possible second. she harbours some mercy, after all. ]
[ there's a grunt when her knee meets his stomach but he forces himself to take it without moving, framing her hips with his knees. he tries to lock himself in this position, keep her down long enough to catch his breath. ]
[ -- her hips shift. testing what space she has for movement, and how firm he's allowed himself to be. there are about nine different tactics she could try on for size, and most of them would work against an opponent equal in steve's size but it's the strength that spoils her calculations. in the back of her mind there's the uneasy understanding that she needs to get better at this: at fighting a person well beyond her usual capabilities. without a doubt, she knows romanoff has. in the end, maybe that's all it is: a question of training.
peggy looks him in his eyes. there's a flush in her cheeks. her lips part. much more softly, now, she coaxes him: ] Lean down. C'mere.
[ no mistletoe in sight. no surrender, either, so she's not certain he'll even fall for such an obvious ruse. ]
Of course. [ she's going to punch him. ] But not until after. You'll have to decide whether it's worth the risk.
[ not falling for it, maybe, but she hasn't given up. he's got a grip on her wrists but if she pushes outwards with just enough strength, it might stretch his arms and force him to dip lower.
[ it's an obvious bait but he took it even before she offered it. worth the risk, honestly. it's fighting dirty, that's what it is. he sighs, watches her for a moment and leans in. ]
Just for the record, it's always worth it.
[ it won't distract her for long but he's hoping for a moment or two, a short reverie as he presses his lips to her, coaxes her closer. ]
[ of course it isn't fair, she wants to tell him. but he kisses her and she only has so long to savor the moment before she needs to seize the offensive once again. peggy slides the instep of her shoe against his ankle -- angling her foot between his legs in a fit of apparent affection.
she lifts her shoulders off the mat; the kiss gives her a little more room to maneuver, after all. but it makes her vulnerable, too, because he'll be able to feel the slight tensing of her body before she hooks his leg with hers and shoves up- and leftwards to attempt to roll him over. things will go smoother, she suspects, if she can manage to get on top of him.
it's merely a question of whether he's prepared to stop her. peggy can't predict the answer. ]
[ he can't even complain she didn't warn him. only, for someone who was warned, he manages to still be distracted long enough for her to push against him. there's nothing but soft laughter when his back meets the mat. ]
You know, we should do this more often.
[ and then he tries to push away from the mat, a ( rather halfhearted ) attempt to throw her off. ]
[ not least of all because she should learn to counter and weave when stacked up against someone unbelievably more powerful than herself. the knock-out lipstick alone isn't enough to keep herself safe in this new, wider world. peggy sits low on his hips -- ever so suspicious that he might try and gain footing with his heels against the mat. otherwise, she leans forward and pins his wrists in place. the longer she sits like this, the more precarious it becomes. the quicker he'll suss out the best way to topple her again.
even now, though his attempt is only half-meant, she has to adjust her weight just to keep him down. ]
[ it's more than a bit distracting on its own. he watches her with open interest and perhaps a shade of something more calculating. Distracting or not, there's a Christmas day on the line. She made good work immobilizing him, sitting close enough to his knees to make sure he can't maneuver himself back to his feet.
standing up is still out of the question. sitting up, however -
most of her weight and strength focuses on keeping him from standing. he pushes his shoulders up, keeps her hands in his even as he moves them to her shoulders and lifts his upper body from the mat.
it's a battle of wills, who keeps the other locked down long enough to win the match. Steve tries to push her shoulders and make her tumble sideways and back onto the mat. ]
Does this count as a date, by the way?
[ it is him and her, alone. rolling on top of another, of all things. ]
[ -- honestly, it shouldn't be such a ruddy turn-on. but it is. not merely the strength alone (because it's never really about the strength) but the sheer tenacity, even now, when faced with an easy win. it's almost as though he wants to stay challenged, even if it means putting further restrictions on himself to do so. he doesn't shove; he doesn't sprain. he uses his power slowly and steadily and peggy's helpless in the face of such bizarrely titanic tenderness.
ah, well. she huffs. she's going sideways (that much is inevitable) but she at least lifts her body up just far enough to free her legs and wrap them firmly around his waist. that way, when she hits the mat, she can at least jack-knife her torso away from the ground and possibly push him straight off of her. ]
[ he manages just as he claims another momentarily success. he locks both his elbows on the mat, presses down as she tries to push him off. lord knows what a by-stander will make of this - and to think, they had a conversation about intimacy on the other week.
Because -- [ her voice is strained as she tries to shove him up, and off of her. difficult, really, with her legs locked around his waist. just now would be an opportune moment for a headbutt, but she suspects that would give her far more of a headache that it would him. (on account of his thick skull, surely!) ] Because you and I live on the same bloody ship. We eat together. We travel together. We -- we can't go calling every different hour a different date.
[ dates are dates, certainly. but they also co-habitated. a distinction must be made. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:16 am (UTC)Not sure I can really try not to be kissed by you.
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:22 am (UTC)his foot catches her ankle. she wobbles for a moment, but recovers. side-steps, still with her arm locked in his. cliched, perhaps, but she attempts to drive his elbow towards the middle of his back. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 01:06 pm (UTC)if his Christmas day is going to go as planned, he can't spend this match playing defense. he struggles against her grip and instead of freeing his arm by shaking her off, he leans forward, roots himself and pushes back against her grip, aims to send both his elbow and her arm towards her middle, take the hit or let go, seems to be the message. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 01:53 pm (UTC)peggy shoves a foot between his calves and tries to snag his ankle. he tried to topple her backwards; she tries to topple him forwards. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:23 pm (UTC)he sways for a flicker of a second before balancing himself again, pressing his weight down on his feet and moves both hands to her hips and it could have been the beginning of a dance if it weren't for him trying to turn her, to wrap an arm securely around her middle and immobilize the next attack. ]
You know, this isn't what most people do with their girlfriends on Christmas morning.
[ he manages, all the while. trying to get a good grip of her. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:31 pm (UTC)No? What's expected, then, of most people's girlfriends on a Christmas morning? [ sharp. sardonic, certainly. and a little suggestive, perhaps, as she quickly pivots at her waist and tries to toss him over her shoulder -- let his own weight throw him down, so to speak. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:44 pm (UTC)[ he strains against her, manages to keep his grip on her waist. ]
Cookies, maybe a bit of that tea -
[ and then she shifts and he loses balance altogether; she sends him over towards the mat and instincts guide him into a roll that ends with a quick jump onto his feet again. ]
Definitely more of that mistletoe.
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Date: 2016-12-31 02:50 pm (UTC)peggy comes at him again. right hook swinging. ] The mistletoe's merely an excuse.
[ suggesting -- with a half-smile as she throws her punch -- that he's welcome to kiss her without it at any time. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 03:35 pm (UTC)the first priority is dodging that fist. he may not know everything about her tactics in hand-to-hand combat but he knows her right hook is vicious. his own is directed at her shoulder. ]
but it's a damn good excuse, all in all.
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Date: 2016-12-31 03:38 pm (UTC)all her tactics suggest one thing: she wants him on the ground. clearly, she suspects she'll have some advantage there that isn't afforded to her as long as steve still has his feet. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 04:21 pm (UTC)action
Date: 2016-12-31 04:31 pm (UTC)it doesn't cause her to take her eyes off the prize, however, and she's quick to wriggle at least one wrist free from his grip. peggy shoves at his chest with a hard elbow, trying to balance above him and resist his attempt to roll her.
it works -- for about seven seconds, and then she finds herself thrust suddenly onto her back. flat against the mat. there's no time for surprise: she cocks her knee and drives it into his stomach -- only aiming higher than his groin at the last possible second. she harbours some mercy, after all. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 04:41 pm (UTC)Ready to yield, yet?
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Date: 2016-12-31 04:49 pm (UTC)[ -- her hips shift. testing what space she has for movement, and how firm he's allowed himself to be. there are about nine different tactics she could try on for size, and most of them would work against an opponent equal in steve's size but it's the strength that spoils her calculations. in the back of her mind there's the uneasy understanding that she needs to get better at this: at fighting a person well beyond her usual capabilities. without a doubt, she knows romanoff has. in the end, maybe that's all it is: a question of training.
peggy looks him in his eyes. there's a flush in her cheeks. her lips part. much more softly, now, she coaxes him: ] Lean down. C'mere.
[ no mistletoe in sight. no surrender, either, so she's not certain he'll even fall for such an obvious ruse. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 05:04 pm (UTC)he seems to have remembered just who he's dealing with, here. ]
-- you're going to try to punch me, aren't you?
[ and for some reason, it makes him smile. ]
I'm not falling for that, Peggy.
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Date: 2016-12-31 05:07 pm (UTC)[ not falling for it, maybe, but she hasn't given up. he's got a grip on her wrists but if she pushes outwards with just enough strength, it might stretch his arms and force him to dip lower.
so she tries. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 05:35 pm (UTC)[ it's an obvious bait but he took it even before she offered it. worth the risk, honestly. it's fighting dirty, that's what it is. he sighs, watches her for a moment and leans in. ]
Just for the record, it's always worth it.
[ it won't distract her for long but he's hoping for a moment or two, a short reverie as he presses his lips to her, coaxes her closer. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 05:44 pm (UTC)she lifts her shoulders off the mat; the kiss gives her a little more room to maneuver, after all. but it makes her vulnerable, too, because he'll be able to feel the slight tensing of her body before she hooks his leg with hers and shoves up- and leftwards to attempt to roll him over. things will go smoother, she suspects, if she can manage to get on top of him.
it's merely a question of whether he's prepared to stop her. peggy can't predict the answer. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 06:23 pm (UTC)You know, we should do this more often.
[ and then he tries to push away from the mat, a ( rather halfhearted ) attempt to throw her off. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 06:31 pm (UTC)[ not least of all because she should learn to counter and weave when stacked up against someone unbelievably more powerful than herself. the knock-out lipstick alone isn't enough to keep herself safe in this new, wider world. peggy sits low on his hips -- ever so suspicious that he might try and gain footing with his heels against the mat. otherwise, she leans forward and pins his wrists in place. the longer she sits like this, the more precarious it becomes. the quicker he'll suss out the best way to topple her again.
even now, though his attempt is only half-meant, she has to adjust her weight just to keep him down. ]
I don't disagree one bit.
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Date: 2016-12-31 08:03 pm (UTC)standing up is still out of the question. sitting up, however -
most of her weight and strength focuses on keeping him from standing. he pushes his shoulders up, keeps her hands in his even as he moves them to her shoulders and lifts his upper body from the mat.
it's a battle of wills, who keeps the other locked down long enough to win the match. Steve tries to push her shoulders and make her tumble sideways and back onto the mat. ]
Does this count as a date, by the way?
[ it is him and her, alone. rolling on top of another, of all things. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 08:13 pm (UTC)ah, well. she huffs. she's going sideways (that much is inevitable) but she at least lifts her body up just far enough to free her legs and wrap them firmly around his waist. that way, when she hits the mat, she can at least jack-knife her torso away from the ground and possibly push him straight off of her. ]
-- Maybe, [ she answers, breathless. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 08:36 pm (UTC)[ he manages just as he claims another momentarily success. he locks both his elbows on the mat, presses down as she tries to push him off. lord knows what a by-stander will make of this - and to think, they had a conversation about intimacy on the other week.
this was obviously a good idea. ]
Why maybe?
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Date: 2016-12-31 08:40 pm (UTC)[ dates are dates, certainly. but they also co-habitated. a distinction must be made. ]
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Date: 2016-12-31 08:49 pm (UTC)[ is he teasing, it's hard to say. fighting to keep her in place, he takes a deep breath, arches both eyebrows at her. ]
Says who?
[ it's a dare of a sort and it fits, given the situation at hand. ]
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