xiii. Use Somebody → Kings of Leon
"I've been roaming around
Always looking down at all I see
Painted faces, fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody."
***
Allison wakes up with the urgent need to pee. There's a tight grip around her waist that's crushing her to a wall and one also squeezing her hand, restricting her. She tenses in panic until last night comes back to her and she carefully turns around to face the man holding her body captive.
"James," she whispers quietly as to not disturb the quiet of the morning. He doesn't stir, just continues to sleep peacefully, his breath coming out in little puffs of air.
The furrow between his eyebrows is gone and he looks younger. His jaw is unclenched, his mouth tilted up at the corners, and his hair a mess against the pillow. He really is beautiful, she thinks and hates herself for the thought.
The softness of his sweatpants and warm of his chest feels nice. A little too nice. But she settles back into her original position facing the window and tries to distract herself. The hand on her waist burns through her shirt and she wonders if he always runs so hot.
There's the soft patter of rain outside the large, ceiling to floor window. It's still dark out even with the busy lights and she wonders if she can go back to sleep. But the pressure in her bladder doesn't cease, making the decision for her.
Carefully sliding her hand out of his, she moves his arm up off her hip bone and freezes when he sighs. She squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to relax. The bed shifts when he turns away from her and she lets out a sigh of relief.
Making sure to be extra quiet getting out of bed, she nearly falls twice getting into the bathroom.
By the time she's back from her trip, she's tired again so she falls back into bed and snuggles back up to James who immediately pulls her back into his arms. She tucks her head underneath his chin and falls asleep once again.
***
The second time she wakes, she's still wrapped up in James' arms. Briefly, she wonders what woke her but her growling stomach answers her. She cranes her neck to look at the clock.
It's 5:46am.
"James," she whispers. There's no response so she pulls away slightly to look at his face. The arms around her tighten in response.
The arm that was right in front of her fucking face flexes and her jaw drops as his muscles ripple. She can barely see it in the darkness of the morning, but the lights of New York bounced off of his skin, giving him a slivery glow.
"Wow," she whispers to herself, amazed. She pokes his bicep. It was harder than steel. That leads to her squeezing it experimentally and she's almost giddy when it flexed again.
"What are you doing?" asks a low voice in her ear. She jumps out of his arms and nearly falls off the bed. Actually she would have, if she hadn't wrapped her leg around him to catch herself. But at the same time he lunged for her, trying to keep her from falling which only succeeded in him crushing her.
They freeze like that. Her, legs around his waist and torso half off the bed, and him, laying on top of her face to face, close enough to where she could feel his warm breath on her face.
It didn't even smell. The bastard.
Lights bounce of the contours of his face and James looked even more beautiful than should be possible. His blue-gray eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness and it made her feel like he's seeing into her soul. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once, making her heart race so loud that she's sure he can hear it.
"Um, James...?" She hopes he didn't notice the unusually high pitch of her voice. From the smirk on his face, she can tell she isn't that lucky.
"Yeah, doll?"
Warmth floods her face at the nickname and she internally cringes.
His morning voice should not be that attractive. It's just not fair.
"C-Could you um move back a bit?"
"Now why would I do that, sweetheart? I quite like this position," he says teasingly. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief and the smirk on his lips widens at her gaping. He was messing with her!
Holding back a smirk, she tightens her legs around him and flips them so she's on top. She giggles at the shock on his face and leans down so she's laying her head on her overlapping hands that are resting on his chest, looking up at him under her lashes. "You're right, this is a nice position," she says, teasingly batting her lashes.
He laughs and shakes his head, smiling. His blue-gray eyes light up in amusement. "You keep surprising me, doll."
A smile graces her features and she tilts her head slightly to the left.
Sometimes, she surprises even herself. I mean, she is alive after all.
"It's what I do," she says, only half teasing. Something in her voice must have given away her sadness, because he strokes her cheek lightly. She leans into the touch slightly, begging herself not to be too inappropriate and do something stupid.
"I'm glad," he answers, his blue eyes soft.
She tries to hide a smile but her cheeks hurt to much and from the answering smile on his face, she knew she didn't succeed. The moment gets interrupted when her stomach lets out a loud growl, making them both aware of why she woke in the first place.
Warmth erupts in her cheeks again and she groans in embarrassment as he laughs. "Wanna go get some breakfast?"
"Please," she says sliding off of him. She collapses next to him, angling herself so she's facing him and he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear before getting up. He heads back to his room for what she assumes is to shower and change.
Groaning, she slides out of bed, deciding to just keep the shirt and put on the leggings. She washes her face and brushes her teeth. Fixing her hair seems like too much work so she just puts it up in a messy bun. It's almost 6:30 when there's a knock at her door.
Allison opens it to see James leaning on the wall next to the door. He looked suave as hell in a rumpled black long sleeve and black sweats. He still seems tired but he was looking much more refreshed than when she saw him last. "Ready?" he says quietly, eying her shirt.
Allison's throat tightens at the smirk on his face as he looked at the star on her shoulder. She hates it and loves it when he smirks. It makes for very conflicting emotions.
In response, she clears her throat and nods urgently, successfully distracting him from her shirt. "Yesssssssss," she groans.
James holds out his hand and face redder than a tomato, she takes it. He leads them to the elevator.
The elevator ride is short and she's almost vibrating in excitement. Once the door opens, she almost yanks him out and asks if he can show her to the kitchen. He nods and she follows him.
Not that he really had to, the strong scent of coffee left a pretty good trail.
In the kitchen, Steve is already up and dressed, much to Allison's surprise. He's casually drinking coffee and reading a newspaper at the table.
She almost wanted to laugh. This was Captain America. It never really hit her, how normal these people are. For superheroes, they seem pretty domestic.
Steve smiles when he sees them, blue eyes sparkling. "You guys are up early," he comments, turning a page. "Hunger I'm guessing?"
Allison smiles shyly. "Yeah, I can't remember the last time I ate before last night."
James squeezes her hand softly, but when she looks up, he's staring straight at Steve, a stoic look on his face. She's surprised he held her hand this long but James was positioned so Steve couldn't see it.
Steve sets his newspaper down and gets up. "I can make pancakes?" he suggests hesitantly. His blue eyes flicker to James in front of her, nervously.
Allison lights up immediately. "Can you make them with blueberries?" she asks a little excitedly.
James chuckles quietly and Steve smiles. "Of course I can," he says and looks back at James with a slight smile on his face.
So, they set off to make pancakes. Well, really just Steve and James.
Steve mixes and pours, narrating what he's doing as he does it. James wordlessly hands him the correct measuring cups and ingredients while Allison watches in interest. It looks practiced and she wonders if they do this often. She decides to ask them.
"Do you guys cook together often?" she asks and immediately wishes she didn't. James' shoulders tense and Steve shoots him an anxious look from his peripheral. She's quick to fix her mistake. "Or do other people cook too?"
At the second question, James relaxes a fraction but his shoulders are still tense.
Allison wishes she didn't open her big mouth.
"I normally cook breakfast, just because I'm usually the first one up," Steve answers. "Lunch is just what people make for themselves, and dinner too somedays, but when everyone's here, Tony insists on what he calls a family dinner. On those days, people get assigned to cook."
"Oh, so do you know if that's today?"
"I think today is Clint's day so we'll probably end up having pizza again," Steve says chuckling slightly. He's flipping the pancakes now and Allison's mouth waters.
The smell distracts her from her questions as her stomach growls again and Steve hands her a plate to hold while he loads it up with food.
It's perfect. Three golden brown pancakes with little dots of blueberries and melting squares of butter on the top.
"Do you want syrup, Allison?" James asks quietly, and she nods holding up her plate. As he's pouring the syrup, his eyebrows furrow in concentration.
She hides a smile. How cute.
Once James is done, she thanks him and takes a seat. The table is much larger than the one she had at home in Beacon Hills. They never used to use the actual dining room with the big table because it dwarfed their small family.
Just like then, it was a bit unsettling sitting at a large table all by herself. She contemplates what it's like with all the other Avengers. Is it loud? Do they talk over each other? She's curious and kind of excited to find out.
She's jolted out of her thoughts as James sits down next to her. He's almost completely silent when he moves. She considers the possibility of him being a werewolf but shoves the thought from her mind, he's a Super-soldier.
All that matters right now is the pancakes.
Steve sits across from James and she takes that as a signal to begin eating. Before she even gets to take a bite, James has inhaled half a pancake and Steve has completely demolished his first one in the second he's been sitting.
"Is it bad?" Steve asks quizzically. His eyebrows are raised in question but the effect is lost with the syrup on his face.
Not-so-subtly, she clears her throat to hold back her laugh and motions for him to wipe his mouth and he looks confused. James handed him a napkin and Steve wiped his face, cheeks staining red.
Allison takes the first bite of her pancakes and downright moans. It was probably the best pancakes she's ever had. So she tells him that.
"Wow, Steve. These are amazing!" She praises and he blushes even more. "You have to teach me how to make these!"
He bashfully ducks his head in the "aw shucks ma'am" type of way and murmurs, "Thank you," shyly.
She never imagined Captain America to be so bashful.
Although his face is straight, James practically beams at her with his eyes. She shoots him a questioning look but he just shakes his head and goes back to his pancakes. She shrugs and goes back to hers after shooting Steve another smile.
James touches his right hand to her left one briefly under the table. As their skin brushes, electricity shoots up her arm from the contact.
Lips curled up in a smile, she eats her pancakes quietly. She can definitely say that this is probably the best she's felt since she woke up.
She sees James smiling to his plate out of the corner of her eye and wonders about the lengths she'd let herself go, just to keep that smile on his face.
Steve is looking between them and smiling not-so-subtly. She catches his eye and raises an eyebrow but he just shakes his head and goes back to eating. James doesn't move his hand from where it touched hers until they're both done.
Steve starts doing dishes and she immediately offers to help him. It takes some convincing but he allows her to dry.
James says he's going to train and leaves. But not before he gives her a small smile and Steve a soft barely-there pat on the back.
Dishes were easy, she's spent her whole life doing dishes with her mother, it didn't really bother her anymore, but what did - was Steve. He would look at her, open his mouth to say something but then close it, shake his head, and go back to washing. After the fourth time he did this, she'd had enough.
"What is it, Steve?" Allison asks exasperatedly. He looks at her, surprised, but at her unimpressed stare, it quickly turns into shame. "And don't tell me nothing. It's obviously something, so spill it."
No response comes so she turns to him and gives him her mom's glare. If possible, he looks even more ashamed, and clears his throat.
"You and Buck-James," he states hesitantly as he hands her a dish to dry.
A smile blooms on her face. "Yeah. I had a nightmare last night and he woke me up and then, kept me company so I wouldn't have another one. He's pretty great, isn't he?"
Steve smiles nostalgically. "Yeah. He is," he replies softly.
They finish the dishes in silence but the smile never leaves Steve's face.
Nor hers.