stands_for_hope | The Metropolis Not!Vengers in... Location, location, location!

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house of am

The Metropolis Not!Vengers in... Location, location, location!

[continued from here]

Steve wakes up slowly, happy and warm and content enough he's not sure where he is at first. The clues he gets initially aren't helpful because they're such universal parts of his life, as far as his hindbrain is concerned, that they're just a part of 'how he should wake up'.

There's a warm body up against him, deep brown hair pressed up against his nose and mouth that smells like home, a ratty old mattress beneath him that's too firm for anyone but someone like him--

And a metal arm across his stomach. Huh. That shakes some things loose.

It doesn't halt the grin on his face, though. That's... probably never going away, or at least it won't be budging anytime soon (probably until Jim looks at him, disgusted, and tells him to 'stop lookin' like a loon'). Instead, he just reaches over to grab his phone from the the bedside table (amazing the things that survive a plain crash when they're kept in the right pocket) and peers at the time.

Huh. Nearly two. That's fair. But--

"Hey, sleepyhead. You get some good rest?"

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"Used to love it when you fell asleep leaning on me." He moved just enough, just so to where the part Steve was working on was easier to reach. "It made me feel like I mattered. Like if I disappeared, at least one person would notice."

Steve wanted to tell him a lot of things. He wanted to tell him how much he'd noticed, and how much the others had noticed; he wanted to tell him just how big the hole'd been when he'd fallen. But that... they'd talked about that. And life was too short, even for them, to focus on that too much.

"I gotta admit I liked having you sleep on top of me," he said after a moment as he started to put on the last of the creams.

His hand came to rest on Steve's thigh. "Be happy to sleep like that again tonight. That was... probably one of the best sleeps I've had in a long time. I don't think I freaked out once." And that was progress.

"I didn't notice it," he admitted, "though I'm not as light a sleeper as I used to be."

He put his other hand on top of Jim's lightly, fingers trailing delicately over the skin of his knuckles as he finished applying the cream.

He'd kept track - and when Steve was finished, he shoved all the tubes out of the way and scooted closer, sliding his arms around Steve's waist. "I'm lighter," he admitted, "but I slept better with you than I have without you. Maybe you just smell right."

Steve almost can't help brushing some of Jim's hair out of his eyes as he settles his arm around his waist. The comment makes him smile, though.

"It definitely helps me. I came in here that first time, settled on that pillow, and almost passed out right there. Figured it'd be rude, though."

"You would'a missed a pillow fight if you had," he reminded, but then leaned in to kiss him. This wasn't one of the kisses they'd had before, where it was desperate and demanding. This was happier, slower, softer. The kind of kiss someone would give their best guy.

Steve had had enough kisses, desperate or not, that he knew what he was doing this time and while he took a moment to just enjoy the sweetness of the kiss itself, he leaned in and kissed back almost immediately, practically purring. His hand slipped around and settled at the back of Jim's neck, letting his fingers slide against the newly-shortened hair.

"Practically made my heart skip a beat with this, you know. In all the best kinda ways."

"I know," he whispered, lips moving against Steve's warmly. "Part of why I did it. I like the way you look at me when you like it." He kissed Steve's lower lip, lightly grazing with his teeth. "I didn't think you'd actually fall, though."

It kind of amused him, though, to think about it - that somehow, he'd taken up so much of Steve's attention that he'd fallen.

He let himself shiver a little from the teeth on his skin before he could speak.

"I was already pretty far off balance," and he pointed it out as if he could defend the near-face flop he'd made in the kitchen, "and you ought to have expected it. I'm not exactly Mr. Smooth-talk."

"Mm, no, you never have been," he agreed. "But right now, you're in my bed in your shorts, in a shirt that hangs off you just right..."

He pulled the collar aside to brush a kiss to his collarbone.

"So how about we lay here together and kiss for a while? Unless you really want to draw..."

Steve turned his head and his lips were inches from Jim's.

"You puttin' the moves on me, Rogers?" he asked, mischief bright in his eyes. He didn't wait for an answer before ducking down to steal a kiss because that was exactly what he wanted to do.

He slid his right hand up and into Steve's hair. He'd ruffled his hair before, but never had the chance to just touch like that. To stroke. To treat Steve like he'd wanted to for so long. Even if it was just behind closed doors, in private... Right here, right now, it felt good. "Little bit," he murmured after that kiss. "Not trying too hard, though - if I need to try harder..."

For all that it's shorter, Steve's hair is just as soft and fine as it ever was and Steve's happy enough to lean into the touches like a cat.

"Nah, seems like you got things in hand just right," he said with a little smile.

"I mean," he murmured, "if you want me to romance you like a dame..." He grinned, leaning down to kiss him again. "I will. I'll go out, find some flowers, take you out to a movie and then out dancing... Walk on the beach 'til we find a nice private spot in the sand..."

"Seems like we got a private spot right here," Steve pointed out before tugging him carefully a little closer. There's a kiss or two in there for Jim and Steve's going to give them every one he can, sweet and happy and just a touch playful.

"And you know I'm miserable at dancin'."

"You weren't thick as a brick last time you tried, either, Stevie," he murmured through a laugh, slowly pushing Steve back onto the bed. "Bet your chest wouldn't start hurting if you danced now."

Whether it could feel or not, his left hand still stroked down the length of Steve's arm before finding his side. "Might be nice to hold you close with a slow song playin'."

"You know," he said, quiet and thoughtful and just a bit playful, "I wouldn't mind trying a dance or two in here. Just me and you and some music."

But then he was being pressed down against the bed and his arm was getting petted.

"But right now, I'm kinda enjoying this."

Jim smiled down at him, brushing his lips just before Steve's ear. "So am I," he murmured, his hand sliding up beneath the oversized shirt. This, he liked. Kissing, touching, learning the differences in Steve's body. He hadn't had time to even think about it during the war. Other things had been so much more important. Now, though...

"You feel so much warmer now..."

"Feel like a furnace half the time now," he admitted, a silly, crooked grin on his face as he watched Jim, reached up to cup Jim's face with one hand and let his fingers drift through the strands of hair there.

It was so much better than being terrified that he'd wake up to find the cold had gone permanent. "I remember..." Some things better than other, he remembered. But now what was on his mind but, "When I fell asleep on you. Your heartbeat was so much steadier than it ever was before. Used to be a little flutter now and then."

"Now it only flutters when you give me one of those smiles," he murmured up at Jim.

"Nothing any serum can do about that. Wouldn't want it to either."

He smiled - and it was one of his old smiles, wide, lazy, and all charm. "Aww, Stevie."

And Steve felt his chest go tight just like it used to, and for just the same reason.

That was why he let his hand tug Jim from the back of the neck, down into a soft kiss of his own before resting his forehead to Jim's.

His eyes closed as he rested there, hand on Steve's shoulder, the other at his side. It was everything he'd never dared to want for so long. "M'not gonna let go of this," he murmured. "Not now."

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