[WWII AU] you and your baby went to town

[from_the_outside]

Waiting for Bucky's day off has been as difficult as waiting for Christmas used to be when she was a kid. And it doesn't help that they just don't seem to be able to manage time alone together after the mission – not enough of it, anyway. A few stolen kisses here and there are all she gets, even as she feels like she's burning up from pure want.

When he finally tells her, grinning, that he's gotten another R&R day, she spends the next few days in a haze of relieved anticipation. Not just at the thought of finally being able to touch him, but just because she loves spending the time with him. She knows it's a bad idea, knows it's only going to hurt so much worse down the line, but she can't stop herself, and she doesn't want to.

She doesn't ride with him into town this time. Instead, he'd told her to meet him at the little chapel he'd shown her earlier. Wilkins is happy to give her a lift, after she spends extra time and care on her hair and makeup and clothes – the civilian outfit he likes so much and which Lorraine had tried to ruin. 

She's right on time as she walks into the little chapel and looks around for him. "Bucky?"

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[nerves_of_ice]

The realization of her intent, the way she moves and the feel of her around him all combine to undo him utterly.

Every muscle in his body tightens and a white-fire pulse of pleasure begins at the base of his spine and races outward as he cries out.

[from_the_outside]

She stays with him, riding through his climax as he shudders and shakes and as his raw voice sounds in the little cottage. When he's wrung out and loose, she kisses his hip, then his belly, and pushes herself back up along his body to lie next to him once more, her hand resting fondly on his chest as she settles by his side.

[nerves_of_ice]

He gathers her in and kisses her, lingering and tender.

“My darling,” he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

Sharon curls into him, smiling as she kisses him back. "Sweetheart," she whispers back, and kisses him once more, light and sweet, before settling with a sigh, her arms around him as his are around her.

[nerves_of_ice]

He strokes his hand through her hair, slow and gentle, untangling it with his fingers as she rests against him.

Light slants through the vine-covered windows and over them. “Your hair looks like gold in the sunlight,” he murmurs. “Pretty.”

[from_the_outside]

She smiles, relaxed and perfectly trusting, letting him run his fingers through her hair over and over. "Thanks," she murmurs back, and smooths her palm over his chest to his shoulder. "I love getting to see you like this in the sunshine."

[nerves_of_ice]

“As opposed to all in army green?” he teases.

[from_the_outside]

She laughs, soft. "Don't get me wrong," she teases back. "The uniform looks good. Really good."

Sharon shifts to press up onto an elbow so she can cast a lingering glance along his body and back up to his face. "But, god, you make me weak in the knees, Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

His smile flashes, quick and bright and very warm. “Fair’s fair.”

[from_the_outside]

She chuckles and leans down to kiss him once more. "I bet you'd look good in blue, too," she tells him. "It would bring out your eyes."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I never thought about it,” he says, honestly. “But okay.”

Bucky kisses her back and smiles at her. “Do you have a favorite color?”

[from_the_outside]

"Hm." She settles back on the makeshift bed, breathing the scent of the hay deeply in as she considers the question. "I don't know about favorite, but I like green, and yellow."

Her smile flashes. "And red. For lipstick, nail polish, and dresses."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Your aunt caused a hell of a sensation with a red dress,” he tells her, amused. “I think you’d look gorgeous in any of those.”

[from_the_outside]

"White's my classic color," she teases. "Which I think you remember."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I sure do, angel," he teases back. "And it looked really, really good on you."

[from_the_outside]

"Thanks, baby," she says, amused, and lies back down, nudging her forehead against his as she closes her eyes and exhales, long and slow. Her hand rests, fingers spread, on his chest. She amuses herself for a moment imagining him in the clothes of her time, in close-cut jeans and maybe a leather jacket, and smiles at the thought.

[nerves_of_ice]

He curls his arm around her, holding her, and rests his other hand over hers. She smiles, and he smiles as well, reflexively.

"Good thoughts?" he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

"Mm."

She smiles again and opens her eyes to look at him, a little dopey. "Thinking about you, so: yes."

[nerves_of_ice]

He leans in to give her a gentle, lingering kiss, and smiles against her mouth.

"I'll have to be sure to keep giving you good things to think about."

[from_the_outside]

"Somehow I don't think that will be difficult," she murmurs, and kisses him back, lightly.

"Do you want a little more water, or wine, baby?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"The wine sounds nice," he decides, and shifts to settle her back into the hay. "Let me pour us a glass. Which do you want?"

[from_the_outside]

"Wine," she decides, then puts her hand as her stomach growls, and laughs.

"Any more bread and cheese, too?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"You bet," he promises, and rolls out of bed to go retrieve the picnic basket. Bucky sets it down beside her for her to investigate and starts pouring them each a glass of wine.

"There's some fruit in there too, and a couple of other things."

[from_the_outside]

She sits up, cross-legged, totally unselfconscious, and starts rummaging through the basket. The apricots smell amazing; she takes one out and sets it on a napkin, then pulls out the rolls and cheese.

"Do you want some?" she asks him, knifing off some of the soft cheese to spread it over the bread.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yes, please." Bucky grins at the picture she makes, her hair falling over her shoulder and the basket in front of her, then offers her the wine glass.