𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔢

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"Ah ah ah, don't spill the wine."

Natasha notices the tip of the glass and rights it in her hand, feeling Steve's lips, open-mouthed, at the base of her ear. The crimson liquid slops lazily, slips back from the lip, swills in rumination, like it's considering the fall, like it wants to flush the bubbles and bathwater rose. Blush the foam with scarlet tincture as vivid as her hair. For once, she doesn't see blood.

More kisses to her ear and jaw do nothing to break the haze of intimacy, or yank her out of this feeling that she's tumbling so far into so fast. She didn't expect this. Didn't think it would all be this quick, this easy. There was no time for premeditation. All she can do is cling tight to him while they plunge.

"W...Wait." She extends all her mental capacity into the fingers gripping the glass stem, knowing that allowing his lips and his hands and the way his heart beats against her back to distract her will result in one less chalice in their cupboards. "Let me put it down."

As soon as it touches the floor, he's firmer, more insistent with his hands and the way he kisses any exposed skin above the water surface. The bath is almost too small for the both of them, but they're making it work. Natasha is seated in his lap, leaning back against his chest, and the demanding space forces their bodies closer together, which doesn't lessen the attraction.

"I thought we were taking it slow," she breathes.
"This is slow. I think we're going incredibly slow." Steve turns and tips her chin, and she sees his eyes just long enough to know they're dark and as besmirched as hers before he kisses her properly. Tantalisingly slowly.

In truth, she does want to go slow. Slower than this, because the skeletons in her closet are going to try their best to fuck this up and she knows full well from experience that plunging head first in pursuit of a single bout of pleasure for the hell of it is not healthy, or helpful. Sure, foreplay is fun, but have you ever won at Scrabble?

She tips her head back against his shoulder and he nuzzles into her hair.
"Whatever you want, Nat."

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