Safe Enough
(Or, How the Full Disclosure Game Began)
I'm getting used to the sound of me
All tripped up and fumbling
Picking words from this lovely stream
Of all the things that you mean to me
…
I'm getting used to the sound of you
Volleying back this feeling too
Tasting all the things I wished
Waiting in this lovely kiss with you
…
I know it's dangerous
To love like us
But I feel safe enough in the sound of you
-Reina Del Cid (The Sound of You)
...
"Peter?" Olivia says in that soft way that she has. Reclined on the couch next to her, he turns his head to see her face. There's something about the way her lips press out the "P" that makes him want to kiss them, to feel that press against his mouth, but he's always just a second too late.
The only light in the Bishops' living room is coming from the television, which glows and flickers across the bridge of Olivia's nose. That has always been one of Peter's favorite parts of her face.
"Yeah?" he says, his voice equally soft. Walter is in New York, so there's no real need for silence except the fact that sometimes nighttime seems to demand it. Tonight is definitely a hush night. Peter is leaning deep into the cushions of the sofa with his legs up on the coffee table, ankles crossed, and his right arm extended along the back of the couch. And next to him, next to him is Olivia, curled and leaning towards him. Towards him.
He smiles and lets his head drop against the back of the couch. Olivia lifts her legs onto the sofa, sliding them across Peter's lap, and scoots closer to his body until she can press her forehead into his neck, which is warm. Peter drops his left hand to her legs, cupping one just below her kneecap, and marvels in the fact that he can. Her legs have always caught Peter's attention, even in her suit pants; they're one of Peter's favorite parts of her body.
"I want to be completely honest with you," she says. He pulls his head back to look at her, brow furrowed. She doesn't lift her head from his shoulder. "About how I feel," she clarifies haltingly, "about you." She reaches out and holds the sleeve of his sweater that touches her leg. She rolls the fabric between her fingers. "And I want you to be honest with me." Her voice is still soft, hushed. It doesn't sound like she's accusing him of untruthfulness, or lies of omission. He doesn't want to get defensive until he knows.
"Okay…" he says.
Olivia readjusts her torso, putting enough space between them that she can look at him properly. Her eyes run over his face, but somehow never really meet his. She touches his cheek, running the tips of her fingers down his stubble, adoring that it's long enough to feel soft as long as she strokes it in the right direction.
Her fingers have always been one of Peter's favorite parts of her.
"It's not that I don't think you have been," she says. In the past weeks, they've talked. They've talked a lot about fear and glimmering, and the Other Olivia, and the end of the world. And Peter has been honest about all of that. "It's just that… I want this to work. And maybe if we had talked sooner, you know, about my reservations, then maybe this would have been easier. I want to be able to say those things to you. Things that make me nervous, or… or hurt. Or happy. I think that I shouldn't be afraid to tell you… To tell you how happy I am, now. With you." She looks up into his eyes in that sweet way that she has, her chin angled down.
Peter's lips press back into a smile. "I'm happy too," he says. The hand that he had rested along the back of the couch moves to her hair, brushing through it and smoothing it behind her ear. She has finally left it down, though he knows she still hates that the bangs haven't caught up to the length of the rest. She keeps it back during the day, but at night, with him, she lets it down. He thinks she must know how he loves to touch it. It's one of his favorite things about her.
"Good," she says, pursing her lips adorably and nodding. "Relationships are hard for me, because I don't like…" She pauses, redirects: "I'm nervous about putting too much of myself in, so I hold back. But I don't want to do that with you, and I think that will be easier for me… if I know that you're putting yourself in too. If I know it's not just me."
Peter swipes his thumb lightly across her cheekbone, admiring its curve. He'd never thought about her cheekbones before, but maybe they're one of his favorite parts of her face too.
"You mean like, for each honest thing you tell me, I have to tell one back?" he says, smiling.
Olivia grins too, and then drops her head onto his arm. "When you say it like that it sounds silly," she whines playfully.
"I think it sounds great," Peter says. Olivia eyes him to see if he's teasing her. "I'm serious," he defends. "We'll make it a game. We'll take turns. You tell me something you're feeling about me, and then I'll tell you something that I'm feeling about you. Full disclosure. I can start right now. I've been subconsciously cataloging a list all night."
"Peter," she says, drawing out the vowels.
"See, right there," he jumps in. "I love the way you say my name. How about that to start? Every time you say my name, there's something about your lips. I want to kiss you."
Olivia smiles minutely, and then, slowly, reaches her hand up from his sleeve to his neck. She cups his warm neck in her hand, running her thumb down his stubble before letting her whole hand glide down towards the collar of his sweater, which she grips in one fist, ready to pull him close.
"Peter," she says softly, in that perfect way, just to provoke him. Her blush-pink lips pull back just enough to show a straight row of teeth. Peter can't think of anything more perfect than her mouth when it's smiling. It has to be his favorite part of her.
Peter makes a noise in the back of his throat and leans in. He kisses her softly.
"Say it again," he says.
She begins to, but finally, finally, he isn't a second too late. He feels her lips press the "P" against his lips, and then they open up and his tongue slips inside. He leans towards her, and when he can't get any closer, he keeps leaning until she tips backwards. They adjust themselves on the couch, accustomed by now to how to lie together.
"Peter," she says again. He buries kisses in her neck, his stubble scraping the soft skin. "Peter, we said I wasn't staying the night. We said I would go home to sleep."
"So?" he mutters into her skin. Then he licks her, and she giggles.
"So you don't even have a double bed," she teases.
He sighs, faking annoyance, and pulls back, resting himself of his elbows above her. She blinks lethargically; her eyes are shining. They may just be his favorite part of her.
"I told you I'll get one," he says, leaning in for a quick peck.
"Mmhmm," she hums.
She looks so cozy that he can't help it. He leans in again, and again, and soon he doesn't need to lean in again because he hasn't come away from her lips. His mouth opens against hers. He wants to kiss her more; he wants to kiss her better and deeper. Their lips move together, and something about this is so simple, and so perfect in its simplicity.
It feels a little bit like forever and a little bit like not-nearly-long-enough when Olivia puts his palms flat against Peter's shoulders and pushes him away just far enough to say, "Peter."
But he just kisses her again, because he's figured out what he loves so much about the way her lips pronounce his name. That press of her lips to annunciate the "P", it's like she's kissing air. Or kissing his name.
"Peter, wait," Olivia says. She doesn't give up. He leans back so he can look at her. Her lips are swollen and her face is clean and bright. Her hair is splayed out beneath her. She reaches up to him and runs her thumb from the middle of his bottom lip down his chin. "I want to tell you something. About how I feel. It's my turn."
He smiles. "Yes," he says. "Your turn."
"You," she says, running a hand down his cheek and cocking her head at him, "are a genuinely good person. You take such good care of Walter. You understand him, and I don't mean that you can decode what he's saying, but you understand how he's feeling; and you always challenge him to be a better man, the way that you're a better man. And you take care of me, even when I think I don't need you to. You even take care of Astrid. And the universe. Both universes. You just… You take on so much, Peter, and you're such a good man. And I just want you to know that that's… that's how I see you. Even if I'm mad at you, that's how I always see you."
Peter touches her forehead; he cups the side of her face in his palm. He blinks slowly and smiles at her with closed lips, warmly, adoringly. He doesn't say anything. He can't think of any words that are good enough. Leaning in, he presses a long, soft kiss to her forehead. She closes her eyes beneath him.
"Thank you," he whispers. He pushes himself of the couch and stands next to her. She lifts up onto her elbows and looks at the hand he offers her.
"Come upstairs with me," he says. "Stay tonight. We have the house to ourselves, but Walter'll be back tomorrow. Tomorrow you can go home to your own big bed, and we can both sleep in as late as we want on Sunday morning. But tonight, stay."
Olivia sits up on the couch, perching on the edge of the cushion, and meets his eyes. Peter is momentarily overtaken by all of his favorite things about her, all of them at once, and then he thinks that his favorite thing about her is everything. Maybe that's the next secret he'll whisper to her. Or maybe he'll tell her how he felt back in Iraq, when he realized that she had flown all the way there to save a man that she loved. He'd wished, back then, that someday someone could love him that well. He'd been in awe of her. He still is. He has so many things he can tell her about the way that he's feeling, and he wants to list each of them, over time.
She takes his hand, and he leads her upstairs.
...
Note: The lyrics at the beginning come from a song that's not out in the world on iTunes. You've got to search for it on YouTube (I wish I could post a link…), but it should be pretty easy to find. I didn't include the whole song, but really it's perfect for this couple and it's a gorgeous song by a talented girl, so check it out.
Sidenote for those who are interested: I don't like to write things that risk canon, meaning I don't like to write speculation about the future or things that will just be disproved later by the actual show (though I totally love to read that stuff). That's why with this, I'm going back to cover a scene that canon skipped over, which I started wondering about when I rewatched the scene in the car from Os. Olivia said something about how she wished they made the full disclosure agreement sooner, which got me thinking about how it came to be.
Anyway. Thanks for reading. I'd love a review, if you feel so inclined.
Oh, and consider it all disclaimed.