I padded out of the bathroom in my trusty pajamas, the soft cotton ones that I had packed specifically for "casual, inconspicuous, asexual lounging," as Natasha had put it. I ignored the barely-there lace set she'd somehow snuck into my suitcase when I wasn't looking. Bucky was tossing a thin blanket onto the couch, trying to make it look suitable to sleep on. It looked about as comfortable as a slab of concrete, one of those pieces of furniture that's clearly for fashion rather than function. Especially considering his size, there was no world in which he'd get a good nights' sleep on that thing.
"Do you have something against comfort, Barnes?" I quipped as I leaned against the doorframe, watching him attempt to make the blanket fit across the length of the couch.
He glanced up, eyes flicking down over my pajamas, making me keenly aware of my lack of bra. "Just figured I'd be a gentleman, that's all."
I crossed my arms, my eyebrow arching in amusement. "Come on, there's a perfectly good bed here. And it's big enough for, like, three of me. Or two of you."
Bucky stood up, hesitating for a fraction of a second. "You sure? I've slept in worse ––"
"I'm sure. Besides," I continued, walking over to the king-sized bed and patting the mattress, "if one of us has a nightmare, the other can play the hero. You know, wake the other up before it gets too bad?"
"That's... actually not a bad idea," Bucky conceded, though he still looked as if he were mentally measuring the distance between the couch and the bed.
The silence stretched for a moment before he finally picked up his pillow and made his way to the other side of the bed. "If you start stealing the blankets, though, I'm building a fort."
"I solemnly swear to keep my blanket thievery to a minimum," I said, my tone mockingly serious as I climbed into bed next to him.
We both settled under the covers, maintaining a respectful, almost comical distance between us. I lay on my side, facing away from Bucky, my eyes staring at the wall as if it might suddenly become interesting. All I could think about was the weight of his body on the mattress, pulling me towards him. The warmth of him. The way I could just roll over, touch him…
The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and our synchronized breathing. Every once in a while, I could hear Bucky shifting, as if he were also wrestling with the awkwardness of the situation. We'd agreed on a cool 66 degrees for the room, both of us embracing the likelihood that we'd wake up from a nightmare, panicked and sweaty. A cool room was a small comfort, an easy thing to agree on. At this moment, it served to keep us both from getting too warm in our full pajamas. My full length set had felt nice after a shower, but now, under the covers, it felt cumbersome. Like I was wearing too much clothing. I wondered if Bucky felt the same in his sweatpants and t-shirt. My normal sleep attire was a tank top and underwear, far less than I was currently wearing. What did he sleep in? A faded shirt and boxers? Boxers alone? I propped myself up on my elbows, reaching for the glass of water on my nightstand, clearing the thought from my head as my cheeks flushed.
"Hey, Char?" His voice was soft in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"If this were an actual date, I'd have said some smooth line about how you like your eggs in the morning."
I chuckled, the sound muffled by my pillow. "Lucky for you, we're just two spies in a bed. No lines necessary."
The tension seemed to ease a bit, and slowly, the space between us felt less like a wall we couldn't cross. As sleep eventually claimed us, it was in a quiet understanding that for the first time in weeks, we weren't going to be alone with our nightmares.
And miraculously, neither of us had one.
When morning light spilled into the room, gently pulling me from the depths of an unprecedented peaceful sleep, I realized something had shifted—not just in the bed (which they had, by the way. I'd never seen such a violent sleeper, covers kicked off of his legs and one pillow on the ground), but perhaps in the silent agreement that we were in this mess together. I rolled over to face Bucky, whose eyes were already open, a trace of a smile on his lips.
"Morning," he said, the word simple, but not without warmth.
"Morning," I replied, feeling a surprising flicker of something like anticipation for the day ahead.
"Coffee?" his voice was gruff, tired. Sexy?
"Coffee."
"I'll call room service."
"Suddenly I'm remembering why I married you."
Under the blazing sun, Charlotte lounged in the cabana, her gaze fixed on the two men seated at a table by the poolside bar. The earpiece nestled in her ear crackled to life as Bucky's voice filled her senses. Today was the day that the sale was supposed to take place. Sure enough, their buyer and seller were exactly where they'd predicted. Bucky, not exactly able to lounge at the pool without exposing his metal arm and therefore, his identity, was watching from the roof of a nearby villa. High enough that no one would be able to see him, but close enough that he had a perfect view of Charlotte.
Charlotte in that thin, stringy black bikini. Charlotte, laying back against the chair, propped up in a way that had the muscles in her stomach taut. Charlotte, the one who's heartbeat he'd fallen asleep listening to last night. He shook his head, pressing a hand to his earpiece.
"Alright, Char, what's the plan?" His tone was serious, willing himself to switch to mission mode.
Charlotte smirked, adjusting her sunglasses as she replied, "Just sit tight, Tin Man. I've got this under control."
Bucky huffed a laugh, the sound tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Just don't get…distracted," he narrowed his eyes as a particularly confident set of men in Speedos walked in front of her.
Rolling her eyes, Charlotte scanned the scene before her, noting the men's movements. "Something tells me I'm not their type," she flipped a page on the magazine she was pretending to read, eyes still locked on their targets.
As one of the men pulled out a thumb drive, Bucky's voice grew more urgent. "They've got the goods. What's the play, Char?"
Charlotte's eyes narrowed, her mind racing as she formulated a plan. "Let me work my magic," she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You got the camera ready?"
"Yes…" His skepticism was evident, but he tugged the small drone from his backpack. Flipping it on, he felt it rise from his hand with a near-silent whir, soaring down to a vantage point above the pool. It was one of Stark's newer inventions, equipped with the same stealth mode features as the Quinjets. Even in direct sunlight like today, it was completely invisible to the naked eye, making it perfect to transmit the video footage in real time.
Bucky watched the scene below unfold. Both men leaned in over the table, clearly deep in conversation. One of them slid a small device, the zip drive, across the table. The other picked it up, examining it, before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a thick envelope. Rounding the edge of the pool, Charlotte padded barefoot across the patio. She'd tied a sheer scarf around her hips, doing little to hide the skimpy swimsuit beneath. A sorry excuse for a cover-up, but one he couldn't bring himself to look away from. She approached the men with calculated confidence, her smile coy. Holding eye contact with the buyer for just a fraction longer than normal politeness, she strode right by them and up to the bar. Leaning her elbows on the surface, she stuck her hips out ever so slightly. Both men clocked it, heads turned towards her backside.
She could feel their gazes like a physical touch, exactly as she'd intended. Keeping her expression casual, she signaled the bartender. "Mojito, please," she requested, her voice a melodic purr that carried just enough to ensure the men behind her could hear.
The bartender nodded, setting to work. As he did, Charlotte cast a sidelong glance at the pool's reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The buyer and seller were still staring, their conversation momentarily forgotten. Charlotte allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
"Put it on my tab." A deep, mildly accented voice called from behind her. Bullseye.
When the bartender handed her the drink, Charlotte turned, making sure to force a blush into her cheeks "Oh, hi," she said, her tone dripping with faux innocence. "You didn't have to do that.."
The buyer—tall, with slicked-back hair and an expensive suit—smiled. "No problem at all," he replied, eyes raking over her form, taking note of the absence of a ring on her left hand. The faux one she'd been given for the trip was sitting back on her nightstand. "Why don't you join us? A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be alone."
Charlotte's smile widened. "Well, if you insist." She slid into the empty seat, crossing her legs slowly. "What brings you gentlemen here?"
In her ear, Bucky's voice crackled. "Careful Char," he warned. She ignored him.
The men exchanged a glance. "Business," the seller replied curtly. He was shorter, stockier, with a sharp look in his eyes that spoke of years spent dealing with shady transactions, things he didn't speak freely about.
"Oh?" Charlotte arched an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. "What kind of business?"
The buyer leaned in, lowering his voice. "The kind that pays well. Really fucking well."
Charlotte laughed softly, leaning onto her elbows in a way that pushed her chest forward. Neither of the men made an effort to pretend they weren't looking. "Sounds like my lucky day."
Bucky watched from his vantage point, his jaw clenched. Charlotte was playing her part perfectly, but he couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him. He adjusted the drone's angle from his phone ever so slightly, ensuring he had a clear view of the table. As much as he wanted to see the show she was putting on, the point of the footage was to capture their faces, so he positioned the drone behind her.
Charlotte ran a finger along the rim of her glass, her gaze fixed on the zip drive that remained loosely held in the buyer's left hand. "That looks vintage," she remarked, nodding towards the watch on the same wrist. "Are you a collector?"
The buyer's smile widened. "You could say that." He set the zip drive down on the table, reaching over to tug up the sleeve on his left arm, holding it up for her to see. "1975 Rolex, custom made. Worth a fortune."
Charlotte's eyes widened slightly, feigning interest. "Really? I've always been fascinated by watches. Mind if I take a closer look?"
The seller hadn't taken his eyes off her chest since she'd leaned on the table, and the buyer, clearly taken with her, unfastened and handed it over. "Be careful with it, darling. It's not something you come across every day."
"Of course," she marveled. "I promise I'll be gentle." A mischievous look in her eye that showed a bit more than innocence. Her fingers brushed against the buyer's as she took the watch, the touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. She continued to ooh and ahh turning the watch over in her hands, asking questions she couldn't give less of a shit about just to keep the men distracted.
Bucky's grip on his phone tightened. The look in both men's eyes…he knew exactly what they wanted. Even if Charlotte was a professional, even if she could hand their asses to them with one arm tied behind her back, even if she was only his wife for the sake of the mission…it made his blood run hot. He willed her to work faster, to get out of there before one of them got handsy and made him do something he'd regret.
After twenty minutes that felt like an eternity, the buyer was fastening the watch back on his hand, the seller scrawling a phone number onto a cocktail napkin. Charlotte was cradling her chin in her hands, making doe eyes as she thanked them profusely for her drink. When the napkin was handed to her, she held it to her chest as she stood, blowing them a kiss before turning and striding away. She winked as she turned, her smile teasing. "Don't miss me too much."
The men didn't take their eyes off of her.
Bucky swore, swiftly making his way back to the room.
As soon as she was out of sight, she quickened her pace, switching from the exaggerated swing of her hips to a brisk walk.
"Buck," She breathed, pressing a finger to her ear.
"I'm here," His answer was instantaneous. "Are you okay?"
"Meet me at the room," She tried to keep the grin out of her voice. "Hurry!"
When she slid the keycard into the lock and pressed the door open, Bucky was already there, pacing. He stopped when he saw her, relief flooding his features. "Did you get it?"
"What, is it my first mission or something?" She slid her fingers into the triangle of fabric covering her left breast, tugging out a small black zip drive. Tossing it to him, Charlotte held up a thick envelope with a grin. "And a little something extra," she said, tossing it onto the table with a thud. "But we're not in the clear yet. They'll notice soon enough."
"Char," He shook his head as if he wasn't sure whether to scold or commend her for the envelope of cash she'd somehow snuck out without a single piece of fabric on her body large enough to cover it. Letting out a small chuckle, he tossed the drive back to her. "Then let's get out of here."
They gathered their things quickly, filling their small suitcases and –– in Charlotte's case, changing into something a little less revealing. With a crochet sundress slipped over her bikini, she tucked the zip drive into her purse and held the door open. Bucky, one suitcase in each hand, strode right through.
"Nice work," Bucky said, his voice low as they walked. "You handled that perfectly."
Charlotte smirked. "What can I say? I'm good at what I do."
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, you are. Now let's get this back to Stark."
"Wait," She paused. "Give me ten minutes. Can you have the Quinjet on the roof of that villa by the pool?"
"Char," His tone was warning.
"Ten minutes," She was already walking away.
Bucky looked up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Where the hell are you going? We got what we came for."
Charlotte held up a key card as she walked backwards. "This little beauty gives us access to Mr. Seller's room. Who knows what other goodies we might find?"
"Charlotte, we can't risk it. We need to get out of here now," Bucky insisted, his voice tight with concern.
"Relax, Buck. I've got this. Just get the Quinjet ready and meet me on the roof in ten," she waved him off, rounding the corner.
"Charlotte!" Bucky called after her, but she was gone, leaving him to swear under his breath. He had no choice but to follow her lead and hope she knew what the hell she was doing.
Charlotte moved through the resort with practiced ease, her heart pounding with adrenaline. She was thankful she put a dress on over the swimsuit, but admittedly could have opted for better shoes than the sandals she'd slid into. She slipped past other guests, too caught up in their own vacation to notice her at all. Sliding the key card into the lock, she felt a surge of triumph as the door clicked open.
Inside, she quickly scanned the room, her eyes landing on a sleek laptop and a burner phone on the desk. She grabbed both, stuffing them into her bag. As she turned to leave, she heard the unmistakable sound of security personnel approaching, an angry male voice giving them a description. Brunette, around 5'7, nice tits, upper twenties. Well, they got almost all of it right. Her pulse quickened, and she ducked out of the room, making a swift exit.
The resort was now teeming with security, their radios crackling with alerts about a thief on the property. Charlotte moved swiftly, weaving through staff hallways and down the staircases, her senses on high alert. Her head was down, eyes concealed behind sunglasses as she tried her best to be stealthy in the world's least conducive footwear.
"Hey, you!" A voice called out from behind her. She didn't stop to see who it was. "Excuse me, ma'am, we need to ask you a few questions."
Charlotte paused just long enough to turn around and give the approaching guard a bewildered look. She spoke in rapid French, her tone laced with confusion and a hint of panic. "Je suis désolée, je ne parle pas anglais! Je cherche ma chambre, où est la réception?"
The guard hesitated, thrown off by the sudden language barrier. He glanced around for backup, clearly unsure how to proceed. "Uh, ma'am, we just need to—"
"Merci, merci!" Charlotte interrupted, nodding vigorously before turning and continuing her hurried pace down the hallway. The guard, still unsure, didn't pursue immediately, giving her the precious seconds she needed.
As she rounded another corner, she slipped into a staff-only hallway, ducking through a door that led to a service corridor. The walls were lined with cleaning supplies and utility carts, providing some cover as she moved. She could hear footsteps echoing behind her, growing closer.
Charlotte spotted a side exit leading to the outdoor pool area and darted through it, emerging into the bright sunlight. The sudden change in environment disoriented her pursuers momentarily, but she knew she had to keep moving.
"Ma'am, stop right there!" Another guard shouted, now joined by a second one. They were closing in.
Without missing a beat, Charlotte kicked off her sandals and broke into a full sprint, her bare feet slapping against the hot pavement. She zigzagged through the resort, dodging guests and weaving between loungers and pool chairs.
Her heart pounded as she approached the pool, diving over a low hedge and slipping through a narrow gap between two cabanas. She could hear the guards shouting, their frustration evident as they tried to keep up.
"Bucky, I need that Quinjet now!" she hissed into her comms, her voice low but urgent.
"On it," Bucky replied, the hum of the Quinjet's engines audible in the background.
Charlotte spotted the rooftop access door ahead, but so did the guards closing in on her. She raced up the final flight of stairs, her muscles burning with the effort.
Bursting through the rooftop door, she saw the Quinjet hovering just above, the hatch open and waiting for her. With a final burst of speed, she launched herself towards it, hands grasping the edge as she hauled herself inside.
Bucky reached out, pulling her up the rest of the way. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.
Charlotte grinned, breathless but exhilarated. "I was thinking we could use a little more intel. And look what I found," she said, pulling the laptop and phone from her bag.
Bucky shook his head, his frustration evident. "You could have been caught. Or worse."
"But I wasn't," Charlotte winked, her tone light. "You worry too much, Buck."
"That's because you don't worry enough," he shot back, his voice edged with concern. "One of these days, your luck is going to run out."
"Maybe," she conceded, breathless and grinning. "But not today."
Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's just get out of here."
As the Quinjet rose higher into the sky, Charlotte settled into her seat, her pulse finally starting to slow. She glanced over at Bucky, who was still fuming, his jaw set in a tight line.
"Hey," she said softly, nudging his arm. "We did good today. And now we have even more to bring back to Stark."
Bucky looked at her earnest smile, his expression softening just a fraction. "Yeah. We did."
Charlotte leaned back, closing her eyes as the adrenaline began to fade. She knew Bucky was right—her risk-taking tendencies could be dangerous. But she also knew that without them, she sure as hell wouldn't have gotten this far. It was a fine line to walk, but she was willing to walk it for the sake of the mission—and, if she was honest, for the thrill of it all.
The Quinjet sped across the sky to their rendezvous point, the cities below them all blurring together. It was just another day in their complicated, unconventional lives, but for Charlotte, it was a day well spent. And as she felt Bucky's gaze linger on her, she knew that despite his frustration, he couldn't deny the spark of excitement that her antics always seemed to ignite.
As they settled in for the rest of the flight, Bucky shot Charlotte a sideways glance, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You're something else, Char," he remarked, a wry smile betraying his stern tone.
Charlotte grinned back at him, her pulse still racing with the thrill of the chase. "Just trying to keep the spark alive."
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"In our marriage," She winked. "Duh."
Bucky snorted, shaking his head. "If this is your idea of a marriage, I'm not sure I can handle the honeymoon."
Charlotte leaned closer, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, come on, you know you love it. Admit it, Barnes, you were on the edge of your seat watching me back there."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, on the edge of my seat ready to jump in and save your reckless ass."
"Please," she scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "I had everything under control. You worry too much."
Bucky's smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. "And you don't worry enough. You can't just keep pulling stunts like that, Char. One day, you might not be so lucky."
Charlotte's playful demeanor softened for a moment. "I know, Bucky. But a very wise tutor of mine once told me to know the plan, but never be afraid to pivot during battle. And besides," she added, her grin returning, "isn't that why you love working with me? Keeps you on your toes."
He shook his head, a reluctant chuckle escaping his lips. "A wise tutor, huh?"
"Don't let it go to your head."
"I'll do my best." He shot her a sidelong look. "No more stunts like these, okay? I'm too old for this shit."
She saluted him with a mock-serious expression. "Aye aye, Captain. No more near-death experiences...for today."
Bucky rolled his eyes again but couldn't suppress his grin. "You're impossible."
"And yet, here you are, stuck with me," she teased, leaning back in her seat.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Char. I don't want to have to explain to Nat why we lost her favorite agent."
Charlotte placed a hand over her heart in a mock pledge. "I solemnly swear to be as careful as my reckless nature allows."
Bucky shook his head, but his eyes were warm. "That's a start."
An hour into the flight back to the compound, they'd received an incoming call from Agent Hill. Apparently the notorious Midwestern spring storms were looming in their path, making the normally simple flight a little more treacherous.
Bucky rubbed his jaw as he leaned against the console of the Quinjet, exchanging an exasperated glance with Charlotte. "Maria, what do you mean we can't fly? We're in the sturdiest fucking aircraft there is."
Maria Hill's voice crackled over the comms, her tone firm but sympathetic. "I know, Barnes, but we've got some bad storms rolling directly through your path. It's not safe to be up there right now. You need to find somewhere to land and wait it out until the weather clears."
Charlotte crossed her arms, frustration evident in her voice. "Agent Hill, we have intel we need to get to you. We're so close to being home, just another two hours ––"
"I understand, Charlotte," Maria interrupted, her tone firm. "But your safety comes first. You won't be any good to us if you end up caught in a storm or worse. We received the drone footage from Sergeant Barnes, any other intel can wait until you get back tomorrow"
Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's right, Char. We can't risk it."
Charlotte shot him a defiant look. "Where the hell are we supposed to go? Where even are we?"
Natasha's voice cut in over the comms, her tone calm but authoritative. "You're over Oklahoma. I'd recommend detouring south to avoid the storm cell, hiding out in our North Texas safe house. I'll send over the coordinates."
Bucky exchanged a resigned glance with Charlotte before nodding. "Fine. It better not be one of the shitty old ones."
"It's one of Stark's old vacation homes," Maria replied. "I think you'll find it…comfortable. Just be safe, both of you. We'll regroup once the weather clears."
With a heavy sigh, Bucky switched off the comms, the tension in the cockpit palpable. They were so close to being back home, but now they were grounded by forces beyond their control. As Bucky scanned the horizon, the storm clouds loomed ominously in the distance, making Charlotte's stomach flop. She'd grown up in a cold, frigid climate. Summer storms and tornadoes still made her uneasy, especially combining an unfamiliar environment.
But she wasn't the captain, and they'd been given a direct order. Sighing, Charlotte leaned back in her seat, knowing there was no amount of insubordination that would get her out of this one.
As the Quinjet touched down in the field next to the large safe house, Bucky and Charlotte stared out the windshield, both sighing deeply. The rain was coming down in sheets, making visibility near zero. They could barely see the house thirty yards in front of them. With a sense of resignation, they grabbed the bags, hurried out of the Quinjet and dashed towards the safety of the house. The rain soaked them through in a matter of seconds as they sprinted across the yard.
They stumbled up the porch steps, clumsy and slipping, as they reached for the door handle, their soaked clothes clinging to their skin. Bucky punched in the security code, and with a click, the door swung open.
They practically tumbled inside, Bucky dropping both of their bags on the ground with a wet thunk. Water pooled at their feet as they stood in the entrance hall, dripping onto the undoubtedly expensive hardwood floor.
Charlotte let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through her sodden hair. "Well, this is…not how I saw today going."
Bucky scowled, raising an eyebrow at her. "Funny, I've thought that several times today."
"Don't be a dick." She rolled her eyes.
As the rain continued to pour outside, Charlotte stood dripping on the rug, her soaked dress clinging to her curves, her hair plastered to her skin. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she tugged it over her head, revealing that damn black bikini underneath. Pulling it over her head, she paused, the soaked material knotted in her long, dark hair, already curling from the rain. She hesitated, glancing back at Bucky, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement as she attempted to tug the ends of her hair free.
"Good thing I'm wearing a swimsuit," she muttered, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Bucky watched her, momentarily stunned into silence by the sight before him. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, the way the rain droplets ran down her body, the way her muscles moved beneath her skin as she tangled with her hair. His heart raced in his chest, his blood burning in his veins.
"Let me help you with that," Bucky finally said, his voice low and husky as he stepped forward. Moving closer to Charlotte, he reached out to gently untangle the dress from her hair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder with a feather-light touch.
Charlotte's breath caught in her throat as Bucky's touch sent a shiver down her spine. She met his gaze, her eyes locking with his in a silent exchange. He easily freed the dress, letting it drop to the floor. There was a palpable tension in the air, thick with things they'd repressed, fought against, lied to themselves about. Now, everything that had previously stood in their way was nowhere to be found. There was no mission, no teammates sharing a wall, no Sam to come interrupt them.
In a way, it felt like they'd lost their safety net. Nothing stood between them and certain death.
Nothing stood between them at all.
"Thanks," Charlotte murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped back, the space between them suddenly feeling charged with electricity.
Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He felt his grip on himself loosening, slipping away. His fists clenched at his sides. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard, trying to remember any reason he shouldn't do what his body was telling –– begging him to do.
He felt her touch first.
Her hands on his leather jacket. They gripped the lapels, pulling it back, down his arms. It dropped to the floor.
Her hands found the hem of his t-shirt, slid beneath it. His skin burned under her touch, where she brushed his stomach as she lifted the shirt. Raising his arms, their eyes locked as she reached up to pull it over his head. His hair was soaked, a few loose strands plastered to his face. Giving in to her temptation, she ran her hands down his body. Her fingers trailed over his collarbone, over the ridge where his arm met his shoulder, over his chest and the muscles that rippled across his abdomen. She let her eyes roam over him unapologetically, drinking up every muscle, every scar, every glint of his arm in the low light. When she looked back up to meet his gaze, she almost didn't recognize the man staring down at her.
There was a wild look in his eye that made Charlotte forget who she was, who he was. It burned into her, making her feel naked in ways far beyond just clothing.
Without breaking eye contact, he kicked off his boots. His hands went to his belt, unfastening it, unbuttoning his jeans, lowering the zipper. He paused, seeming to come back to himself for a moment. They stood there, still soaking wet, in the entryway. Rain pounded against the roof, wind howling outside. Charlotte was in a black bikini, Bucky in unbuttoned jeans. Both of them showing more skin to the other than they'd ever dared.
A moment passed between them. Shallow breathing. Hungry eyes. Thunderous heartbeats.
Slowly, tortuously, Charlotte reached up and brushed her wet hair to one side. Her eyes remained locked on Bucky as she tugged on one string of her bikini top. The knot on the back of her neck instantly unraveled, the top falling down to her stomach, revealing her bare chest to him. His breath caught in his throat, his pants feeling tighter. She reached her hands down to the second knot, tugging on it before letting the whole swimsuit top join the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor.
"Fuck," Bucky breathed, unable to formulate another thought.
Charlotte took a step towards him, closing the gap between them. She looked up at him, cocking her head ever so slightly. "Is that an offer?"
Whatever leash he'd had on his restraint snapped.
Bucky reached out, his hand cupping Charlotte's cheek as he leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from hers. His heart hammered in his chest, every nerve in his body on edge with anticipation.
Charlotte's breath caught in her throat as she felt Bucky's touch, his warmth seeping into her skin and setting her ablaze. She met his gaze, her eyes dark with longing, silently urging him to take the next step.
And then, in a heartbeat, it happened. Bucky closed the final distance between them, his lips crashing into hers. It was hard and ravenous and impatient and greedy. His hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, tangling in her wet hair. His other hand found her waist, gripping her hard with cold metal fingers. Her arms wrapped around his torso, trailing down his back. She dug her nails in ever-so-slightly, eliciting a low moan from him, devoured by their kiss.
The kiss was a mess of wet skin and lust, it was sloppy and desperate. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection between them, the raw intensity of their desire igniting like a wildfire. It was a kiss of longing and longing, a silent confession of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
A big fuck you to every single time they'd repressed their feelings, every single time they'd fought the urge to cross this line in the sand.
Charlotte's hands slipped into his waistband, tugging his soaked jeans down over his hips. Bucky stepped out of them, leading Charlotte backwards without breaking the kiss. They stepped backwards through the dark entryway, dripping water across the floor. Charlotte's hands gripped either side of his face as she followed his lead, one of his hands on her lower back, the other outstretched behind her. With a thud, his hand collided with a wall, immediately backing her against it. Their bare chests collided, skin sticky from the rain and warm with desire.
In one movement, both of Charlotte's hands were pinned above her head in a vibranium grip. Bucky angled his head, reaching up to cup her jaw as he slid his tongue along her lower lip. A whimper, a whine escaped her lips, only serving to ignite him further. Sliding a knee between her thighs, Charlotte nearly gasped at the sensation. She writhed against his thigh, chasing this strange and euphoric feeling as he rubbed against her. His hand dropped from her jaw, trailing down her neck, across her breasts, down her stomach. It reached around behind her and slid into her bikini bottoms, squeezing her ass so tightly she sucked in a breath. She'd never felt this good, felt this needy, this desperate.
She'd never done this before.
Her heart thudded in her chest as Bucky released her hands, bringing both of his down underneath her, lifting her up until her back was against the wall and her legs were wrapped around him. She locked her ankles behind his back, pulling his hips even closer to hers. He was rock hard, pressing against the spot threatening to ignite her whole body. Wiggling her hips, she ground herself into him.
"Oh, God ––" He closed his eyes, throwing his head back as her hips pressed against him.
When he brought his head back down, he pressed his forehead to Charlotte's, both of their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Hearts pounded, chests heaved. For a moment they stayed, pinned against the wall, holding each other.
"Char," He groaned.
"Mmm," The noise she made was somewhere between a reply and a moan as she ran her hands through his hair.
"Do you want this?"
She paused, hands freezing on his neck.
Hell yes, fuck yes, she absolutely wanted this. This sensation, this feeling, everything that was just happening. She wanted it to never, ever end. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to give herself to him, let this aggressive and demanding version of James Buchanan Barnes take as much of her as he needed.
"Buck…" She breathed, closing her eyes.
"Hey," He slowly lowered her to the ground, ensuring she was steady on her feet before reaching up to cup her cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong? We don't have to do this, we don't ––"
"No," She met his gaze, eyes determined. "I want this. I want…this." Rising onto her tiptoes, she gripped the back of his head, bringing his lips to hers in a slow, wet, deep kiss. They slowly separated, Charlotte dropping back down to her normal height. "I want it all…so badly. I just," She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. "I don't know how."
A moment of silence passed between them.
"You don't know how…" He spoke the words slowly, as if he was trying to figure out what they mean.
"I mean, I never have." Her eyes met his, willing, begging him to understand. "I don't know what to do."
"Oh," Bucky's gaze softened as he realized what Charlotte was trying to tell him. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. "Oh." he repeated, his voice filled with understanding.
"Charlotte, that's nothing to be ashamed of." He paused, searching her eyes for any sign of discomfort. "It's okay. We don't have to rush into anything. We can take our time." His hands slid down the backs of her arms, gently, softly.
Charlotte's eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and she tangled her fingers in his own as they reached down her arms. "What if I don't want to take my time," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Char…"
"Bucky." She squeezed his hands. "I want this. I want to do this. I want to learn. With you. I trust you."
Bucky's heart swelled, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll teach you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin. "We'll go slow. I'll show you everything, and if you ever want to stop, you just tell me, okay?"
She nodded, her insides throbbing at his gentleness. Bucky lifted her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. "We'll start with the basics," he said, his voice steady and comforting. "We'll go at your pace."
"Can we skip the basics and go back to where we just were?" She pleaded, bringing his hands up to her breasts. A groan escaped his lips as he squeezed, ever-so-gently. His thumbs grazed her nipples before trailing back down to her hips.
"If you want me to teach you…you have to let me start from the beginning." A devilish smile.
He leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in a slow, tender kiss. This time, there was no rush, no urgency. It was a kiss filled with promise and patience, a kiss that told her he was in no hurry and that he valued her comfort above all else.
Charlotte melted into the kiss, her hands slowly finding their way to his shoulders. She felt the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart against her chest. It was a feeling of safety, of being cherished.
Bucky's hands moved gently, exploring the curves of her body with a reverence that made her feel beautiful and desired and fuck, so impatient. He took his time, tantalizing her. As his hands caressed her back, her sides, and finally the soft skin of her belly, Charlotte felt like she was going to boil over.
When he finally broke the kiss, she was breathless but smiling. "How was that?" Bucky asked softly, his forehead resting against hers.
"Perfect," Charlotte whispered, her voice strained. "But can we get to the next part, please."
He smirked, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her jaw. "What's the rush, Char?"
She groaned, leaning her head back. "You're killing me, Buck,"
"Am I?" He cocked his head in a way she'd never seen, mouth slightly agape. His hand trailed down her stomach, slid between her legs, making her bite her lip so hard it nearly split. Metal fingers slid the band of black fabric to the side, making a long, leisurely swipe through her. A truly pathetic whimper escaped her lips as he pulled his hand back up, examining his fingers in the dim lighting. His gaze darkened as he looked her dead in the eye, bringing his fingers to his lips and slowly sucking the first two.
"Bucky," Charlotte whined. "Please."
Bucky's grin widened, and he took her hand. "For the next part," He led her towards a long hallway. "I think we'll need a bed."