London, England
April 1944
Bucky was gone for three days. Betty for once was grateful for Colonel Phillip's piss-poor mood. His constant stream of barking orders at her kept her on her toes and her thoughts away from what was happening on the continent. She even volunteered to stay later than her shift to help reorganize some of the files that had gotten out of order but Phillips sent her home.
In the late afternoon of the fourth day, the Colonel returned from his daily briefing in an uncharacteristically good mood. His cheerful disposition was infections across the office. An hour before the end of the day he walked over and cheerfully slapped his hands down on Betty's desk. "Rogers, you work too hard. Go enjoy your evening."
Betty narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Sir?"
"And say hello to your crazy sonnofabitch brother for me. Pardon my language." Betty's face split into a massive smile. As quickly as she could she gathered her belongings and ran out of the office before Phillips could change his mind. The air was still warm as she surfaced and she nearly ran the four blocks to Steve and Bucky's apartment.
"Hello?" She called out eagerly as she rapped on the dark wood of the door. The door pulled open and without hesitation, Betty threw her arms around Bucky's neck. He pulled her into a tight embrace, hoisting her up until their faces were level. Warmth blossomed in Betty's chest as he brought her close enough for their lips to touch. She tried to commit every part of him to memory, the warmth of his skin, the musky smell of his aftershave, and the beat of his heart so close to her own.
Bucky ran his fingers across her cheek bone, a sweet smile breaking across his face. "I'm so happy your back." She gave him a quick once over. "And not a scratch on you." He shook his head.
"Where's Steve." She asked as he lead her inside the apartment. "He stayed behind after the debrief. Probably pinning after Peggy Carter." He shrugged. Betty shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of the rattan chair and placed her purse down on the small kitchen table.
"Am I allowed to ask where you've been?" She asked wryly while settling herself onto the couch.
"No, but I do have something for you." Bucky declared excitedly before hurrying out of the room. She could hear from the other side of the door he was digging around in his suitcase, haphazardly throwing things on the floor. Finally emerged from the bedroom with a small pink parcel in his hands.
"Think of this as a late birthday present."
"My birthday was in December."
"Fine, then they're an apology for being an ass."
Betty snorted. "If you buy me a present everytime your an ass, I'll have a wardrobe full of designer clothing before next Christmas."
"Do you want it or not?" She quirked her eyebrow but accepted the present wordlessly. The packaging alone was luxurious and Betty would have just been happy to display such a pretty box. She untied the pink satin ribbon, carefully placing it to the side. She slid open the top and move aside the decorative tissue paper. When she finally pulled the last of the wrapping away, she let out a surprised gasp. "Are these real?" She ran her fingers up the silky black seam of the stocking. He gave her a cocky grin.
"Of course, they're real Bette! Genuine Parisian silk." He sat down next to her and threw his arm around the back of the couch. She looked down at the stockings in her hands and then back up at him. "Where did you get these? They've been impossible to find for years! This must have cost you and arm and a leg!"
"Don't worry about it, darlin'. Just enjoy them."
"I can't possibly wear these out. I would be crucified!" She looked down at the gift again and sighs, running her fingers over the silky fabric. "They are beautiful, though." She leaned over and plants a grateful kiss on his lips. When he pulled back, he had a devilish look in his eyes.
"You could always wear them here…" He trailed off suggestively. Her mouth formed a little 'o' when she realized what he was getting at. But two could play that game. She carelessly kicked off her shoes, lifted her right leg, and splayed it across his lap.
"Well, why don't you put them on me, Sergeant?" She said in her most innocent voice. His eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by her suggestion. He languidly ran his fingers up her outstretched leg. The cotton of her stockings bunched up under his touch. When his fingers reached the top of her thigh, he hesitated for a second, feeling her smooth, bare skin. Finally, he unclasps the first suspender clip. He glided his hand to unclasp the second suspender, his fingertips teasingly dipping below where the fabric was resting. He traced his way around the back of her thigh and unclips the last two suspenders before cupping her leg between his hands and slowly dragging the fabric down.
He lifted her leg so that he could kiss the inside of her ankle before slowly lowering it to the ground and reaching for her left leg. He undid the first two clasps with no problem but when he reached around to find the last two but struggled for a moment to locate them. As smoothly as she could, Betty lifted off the couch and placed her legs on either side of him, straddling his lap. She teasingly guided his hand until he found where the last two suspenders were touching her leg.
"Does that help, Sarge?" she asked playfully. She cupped his jaw and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Her stocking is momentarily forgotten, instead, she felt his knuckles trace their way up the sides of her thighs until his hands were firmly holding her hips against him.
He groaned against her mouth as she delicately grinded down on top of him. Without warning he flipped them over so that she was lying on her back and he was over her. She spread her legs as much as she could on the tiny couch as he reached down and hiked her left leg over his hip, bringing them even closer. Betty gasped and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She raked her fingers through his hair as she felt his thumb gently slide underneath the elastic band of her underwear.
She hooked her other leg around his hip before she whispered in his ear. "I thought you were supposed to be putting my stockings on?" He grinned down at her, his fingers tracing along her hip bones. "I'm having too much fun taking them off, sweetheart." Before she could produce a snarky response, his lips were on hers again. Her heart beat wildly, and she felt his hands slip from underneath her skirt and make their way upwards. His fingers traced the buttons on her cream-colored blouse before they slipped just barely underneath the fabric. She thought that he was going to pop the first one open, but he stopped.
"Is this okay? We can stop if you want." His voice was laced with undue concern. She smoothed her hands across his chest, plucking at the buttons on his shirt. "Does it look like I want you to stop, Barnes?" She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him back down to her mouth.
He left a trail of kisses from her lips, across her jaw, then down her neck where he rested his head while he started to slowly work on the buttons of her blouse. When he was halfway down, she impatiently shoved his hand beneath the fabric and underneath her satin brassiere. When he cupped her breast and gave it a tender grope, they both groaned. The pad of his thumb traced over her nipple, and she let out a small gasp. She bucked her hips up against his and he let out a small hiss of pleasure. Before things could progress further, she could suddenly hear the brass doorknob jiggle and then swing open, just a few feet away from where they lay on the couch.
As fast as she could, she shoved him off her and sat up straight. But it was obvious to anyone with two good eyes what they had been doing. Bucky's hair was a wild mess from her fingers, his shirt was completely untucked from his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to draw attention away from his lap. Betty's blouse was almost completely undone, her lips were red and swollen from kissing, and she had one stocking completely off and the other rolled halfway down her leg. The pair of them left little to the imagination.
"Oh shit!" She heard Steve exclaim as he dropped the brown paper grocery bag he was carrying and quickly backed out of the apartment. Betty was so mortified she thought she might just melt into a puddle on the floor. Bucky jumped off the couch and immediately started tucking his shirt back into his pants and trying to straighten out his hair. Betty followed suit and tried to make herself look as presentable as possible, given the circumstances. She had not heard Steve's footsteps retreat down the hallway, so she hazarded a guess that he was waiting for them to dress before coming back in. As she's smoothing her hair back down, there is a timid knock on the front door.
"Come in." Bucky's voice cracked a little and he couged to clear his throat. Steve was just as red in the face as she was when he came back into the apartment. Betty cast her eyes to the floor, not wanting to look either in the eye at the moment.
Steve dared to venture in a little further, picking up the groceries that had spilled out of the bag and placing them in the tiny kitchenette. Standing there for just a beat too long before finally turning and facing the guilty parties. He put one hand on his hip and brought the other up to his brow, rubbing his face before speaking.
"Listen, I'm happy for you both, I am, but I don't want to see it on full display. I mean the couch? C'mon, I have to use that too." He sighed and turned to Bucky. "She's my sister, Buck. I don't want to think about you two…canoodling-" Bucky put his hands up, cutting Steve off. "Say no more. We'll be more…discrete."
"Oh wow, it's getting late. I should get home." She muttered awkwardly; despite the fact, that it was only six o'clock. Bucky's eyes snap toward hers. "I'll walk you." Betty rushed to grab her shoes, purse, and coat before they both stumbled out the door and into the dimly lit hallway. They made their way outside in complete silence before bursting into laughter when they reached the lobby of the building.
"You know what I would love, Bucky?" She whispered, seductively running her fingers up his tie and then across his shoulders. "What doll?" She leaned in close to his ear and whispered. "I would love to go away somewhere, just you and me. Somewhere with no…interruptions." There was no misinterpreting the implications of her words. His face flushed pink and he licked his lips. "I think that could be arranged, sweetheart."
Since it was past sundown he was no longer allowed to go upstairs with her, so he had to bid her goodbye in the small lobby. They spoke in hushed tones and soft peals of laughter until Mrs. Fitzgibbons all but shooed him out the door. "Upstairs with ye, girl." She scolded with a disapporiving glint in her eyes. She took her job of keeping the girls in her charge moral and upstanding members of the armed forces seriously. Not for the first time Betty longed for the days when she could go in and out of her own front door as she pleased.
It was a rare treat for her and Vivian to be home at the same time and not in passing. They spent hours together cooking and gossiping about their lives. Tonight was no exception, Betty walked into the warm smells of Lord Woolton pie baking in the oven. Betty had always considered her meals necessary for survival and nothing more but Vivian made it an art.
"I envy the man who gets to marry you, Viv. He will be fat and happy." Vivian rolled her eyes as she stuck her fork into the steaming hot pie. "He'll need it if he wants to keep things running smoothly on the farm."
"So, you'll go back to the farm then, when all of this is over." Betty gestured around them. Vivian shrugged. "Why not? It was a decent life." Viv rubbed her wrists. "I think I've done enough typing for a whole lifetime. When I get home I want to find a man and be taken care of." Betty snorted. "Let me know when you find one."
"What time do you work tomorrow?"
"Early." Viv sighed. "Something big is happening soon and they've got us on the radio all hours of the night and day running coded messages back and forth. I felt like my eyes were burning on my way to the store today because it's been so long since I've seen sunshine."
"Well, I suddenly feel better that I failed that section of my aptitude test."
"I went to go see For Whom the Bell Tolls with a girl who works next to me and we both fell asleep fifteen minutes in. We woke up halfway through The Gangs All Here. Took me a full five minutes to realize it was a completely different film."
"Jeeze Viv, sounds like you need a good nights sleep for once. I heard that nurse in 8B smuggles sedatives out of the hospital and puts them in her nightcap so she can sneak out with her boyfriend. Want me to go ask her for one?" Vivian snicked. "Anything that could potentially knock out Fitzy would probably kill me."
The night was unuaully warm for this time of year. They opened the window while they both settled into for the night, intending on reading for the rest of the night but instead they simply basked in the warm night breeze.
Vivian rolled over and pulled the chain on the lamp, plunging them into darkness. Betty sat there in her roiling thoughts for several minutes before she turned over to face her friend's bed. "Viv?"
"Yes?" She replied sluggishly.
"Never mind." Betty had suddenly lost her nerve.
"C'mon Betty you already woke me up, you might as well spit it out."
Betty took a deep breath. "I think I'm going to sleep with Bucky." The words came out in such a jumbled mess that she wasn't fully sure that Viv understood her. The light flicked back on and Vivian looked over at her in shock, the tight curlers in her hair bouncing against each other from the force of her sitting up. "What brought this on?" Vivian was fully sitting up in bed now.
Betty blushed and sat up herself, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Things have been getting really serious between us- he wants us to get married- and if it's as important as everyone seems to think it is, shouldn't we give it a go first?" She bit her lip and waited for her friend's response.
"Jeeze Betty, I know I'm an old-fashioned gal but this just doesn't seem like a good idea. What if he doesn't respect you anymore because you put out?" Betty nervously played with a loose string on her nightgown, not looking up at her friend.
"Aw c'mon Viv, it's Bucky! I've known him practically my whole life, he isn't like that."
"How do you know?"
"Because Steve would kill him if he did."
"I just don't want you to get hurt. Or worse, pregnant." Betty groaned and flopped back down on top of the hard mattress. "Maybe, you're right." She mumbled to herself, praying that Vivian would turn off the light and forget the conversation had ever happened. "I'm not saying you should, I just think you need to think about it." Viv yanked the chain again and a comfortable blackness filled the room. Betty listened to her friend's breathing even out as her mind raced. She tried to focus on the sounds of the city five stories below them, but wartime London was no New York, so it did little to comfort her.
The next evening Vivian walked in with a little paper bag concealed underneath the arm of her coat. She tossed it towards Betty who was collapsed on the sofa after an exceptionally grueling shift. "What's this?" Betty inquired after she peeled back several layers of paper to reveal a small paperback novel.
"It's called Lady Chatterley's Lover and it's illegal in this country. It was nearly impossible to track down."
"Illegal you say?" She flipped through random pages, letting the smell of decaying ink and paper fill her senses. Vivian blushed a little as she sat down at the kitchen table. "It's blue."
"Blue?" Vivian's face flushed an even darker pink than it already was. "It's a dirty book." A wry smile broke across Betty's face. "And why are you handing me an illegal dirty book?"
"Because even though I don't agree with you, you should at least know what it's like before you do anything."
They read from the book deep into the night, occasionally bursting into a fit of giggles. Vivian held the book above her head as she read a particularly bawdy passage. "Wait, what is he doing between her thighs?" Betty popped up on her elbows. Vivian frowned and flipped back a page studying the text. A deep blush spread down her neck. "It's a little unclear but I think he's using his mouth…on her."
Betty's eyes widened at the thought. "Do people actually do that?" Vivian shrugged. "I don't know, you'll have to tell me." She said suggestively. It was Betty's turn to blush. "I don't I'd like something like that."
"Well, Connie clearly does!" Vivian giggled as she tossed the book across the room. "Page 182." Betty's face was beet red by the time she finished reading the passage over again. "This whole endeavor seems a touch unrealistic," Betty remarked, and she flipped forward through the pages. "What do you mean?" Vivian she reached for her curlers nestled in her bedside drawer. Betty watched mesmerized as she ran the brush through her thick red curls, then twisted each one back into shape. Betty sat up on her bed, letting the book fall into her lap. "I just mean that it just seems a bit overblown, you know? Is it truly so good that she cannot possibly live without it?"
"Well, she is the lady of the house, how else is she supposed to occupy her time? I think if I found a man as well equipped as Mellors, I wouldn't want to do anything else either." They both stared at each other for a hard second before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Betty wiped the tears that were collecting in the corner of her eyes. "We're going to get another scolding from Mrs. Fitzgibbons."
Betty waved her hand dismissively. "I'm twenty-three years old, I can't believe I still have some old fuddy duddy telling me I have a bedtime." They both giggled again. Betty brought her hand up to her mouth to try and stifle the sound.
There was a sharp banging on the front door, rattling the cheap wooden furniture. "Lights out ladies." Mrs. Fitzgibbons bellowed in her thick accent from the hallway. Betty dropped the book onto the nightstand while Vivian reached for the light.
A heatwave settled over London in the waning days of May. Betty thought they might bake in their brick apartment building and for once she envied Vivian for working the night shift and escaping the worst of the heat. Phillips insisted that despite the weather, everyone working at SSR HQ had to continue to wear full uniform but as soon as she rounded the corner on her way out of work, Betty would strip off the heavy cotton jacket.
She nearly barrelled into Bucky and Steve while trying to escape the oppressive humidity of the office. "Two full days off can you believe that?" Steve wondered. "When was the last time any of us have experienced that?" They all stopped to think for a moment. "Blizzard of '35." Bucky chimed. The Rogers siblings nodded in agreement. "The snow was so thick they couldn't get the streetcars to run."
Steve hummed, "Ma had to sleep at the hospital because it was too tretcherous to walk."
"What are you doing with your time off, Steve." Betty chirped as they waited for the bus. "I'll be going to the National Gallery."
"Alone?" Betty asked innocently. Steve side-eyed her for a moment daring her to say comment further. "Yes, alone. Unless you two wanted to come with?" Betty and Bucky shifted awkwardly. "You're so uncultured." Steve grumbled.
"I thought the National Gallery was closed." Betty asked distractedly while trying to pull exact change from her coin purse. "They moved most of it out of the city during the Blitz but they have some sort of special exhibit." Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the bus. It was jam packed with likeminded young people trying to escape their stuffy workplaces.
Bucky was able to weasel his way through the crowd and found a spot next to her on in the back. "And what is your plan for the weekend, Sarge?" A playful smile graced his handsome face. "Well, I just so happen to have two train tickets to Penzance and a reservation at a cliffside hotel."
"Sounds like you've got an incredibly romantic weekend planned. Who will you be taking?" Betty teased. He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the top. "Well I was hoping you would go, darlin'." She thought hard for a moment. "Well I suppose I could make that work."
"I look forward to it, Buck." She leaned forward on her tippy toes, mindful of the people that surrounded them, a kissed his cheek.
"The train leaves from Paddington at seven o'clock on Saturday. I'll meet you outside your apartment at six?"
"Sounds perfect."
Later that evening Betty stood with a lit cigarette in front of her open suitcase, staring at the jumble of clothes inside. She had been attempting to packing for this weekend for hours and had gotten nowhere. Frustrated, she turned the suitcase out on to the bed, resolved to start again. She angrily tapped her cigarette out on the bedside ashtray and closed her eyes. Her curlers were too tight and they were causing an awful headache. Betty picked through the tiny wardrobe again, haphazardly throwing her lightest clothes into the train case. It was two days, her nerves could survive. She snapped the case closed and laid her travel dress on top of it.
You wanted this, you asked for this, she reminded herself over and over as she laid in bed sleeplessly staring at the ceiling. Vivian creeped into bed sometime around five in the morning, collapsing into bed before changing out of her uniform. Betty sat up, knowing it was time to start getting ready. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, careful not to wipe the cold cream off her face.
Getting ready took less time than she imagined so she sat awkwardly on her couch, listening to the minutes tick by until it was time to meet Bucky outside. Although there were no rules about leaving the apartments early, she still slipped her shoes off when she snuck past Mrs. Fitzgibbons flat, not wanting to bring undue attention to herself.
It was jarring to see Bucky in public without his uniform. The civilian clothes made him look younger and fresher. He greeted her with a chaste kiss and held out his arm for her to take. The morning air was a a restorative break from the oppressive heat of the last few weeks. A cool breeze rustled through the trees as they strolled through Hyde Park and finally into the train station.
The train rattled through the countryside; the car was unusually quiet for the beginning of the summer season. A few passengers were milling about in the hallway but none of them bothered them. Bucky had his right arm slung over her shoulders as he leaned against the window frame. In his left hand, he held a paperback novel, she watched mesmerized as his eyes flew over the black-inked words, her book sat neglected on her lap.
"You just gonna stare at me the entire time?" He asked without ever even looking over at her. "And what if I did?" A smirk danced across his face. "You're a lot more entertaining than this nonsense." She held the book up before unceremoniously dropping it down on the cushioned seat next to her. "Not good?"
"I've already unraveled the whole mystery and I skipped ahead to the end to confirm all my theories." He hummed, "You've always been too sharp for dime store novels, sweetheart." She laid her head on his shoulder and pressed her lips against the skin of his throat. She ran her nose across his jaw. "Keep that up and I'll be too distracted to read too." Before she could respond there was a sharp knock on the glass door. An old man in a grey uniform asked for their tickets. Bucky fished through his pockets before producing two small slips of paper. "Thank you, yank." He tipped his hat and continued to the next cabin. "How can they always tell we're American?" Bucky glanced down at his clothes as if to confirm he wasn't wearing his uniform. "It's because we're better looking, and have good teeth."
Bucky bit back a laugh, "They're our allies, Bette, we're supposed to like them." Betty suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Who's we? I'm Irish, Barnes. I'm not supposed to like them."
"Someone hasn't been reading their handbook. There's a whole chapter about setting aside old world grievances." He remarked sarcastically. Betty waved her hand dramatically. "I'll set them aside when they give us our land back." Bucky snorted. "Our land? You've never stepped foot in Ireland."
"Not yet! But both sets of my grandparents were born there! Maybe I'll go one day and meet all of my long-lost cousins." She crossed her arms across her chest in mock indignation. "You do that, sweetheart." He mumbled, his eyes drifting back to his open book. Betty leaned forward, her head resting on her hands, staring out the large window. Miles of unspoiled countryside laid out before her. She caught herself admiring the rolling hills and fields, a welcome reprieve from the soot lined streets of London. The countryside blurred into a painting of blues and greens. Her eyes grew heavy and she leaned her head against Bucky's shoulder, the gentle rocking of the train lulling her to sleep.
The Trevelyan Inn stood on a hilltop overlooking the town of Penzance. It was much more of a hike than was indicated on the map and Betty's calves burned from the long and winding walk to the top. She bit back any complaints she had as she watched Bucky effortlessly carry both their suitcases next to her. When they finally reached the entrance of the inn, she took a moment to admire the beautiful stained glass that lined the dark wooden door. Bucky set the two suitcases down and opened the door for her. Betty stepped through the threshold and into the grand front room.
The interior was clearly from another time. The walls were deep mahogany with rich tapestries and paintings lining the walls hung by gold velvet ropes. Every few feet were illuminated by ornate brass gas lamps affixed to the wall. The floor was titled in a chic black and white checkerboard style. Large stained-glass windows cast rainbows across the vast expanse of the room. Betty looked down at the shoes she bought at a charity shop that were already years out of fashion and suddenly felt like she did not belong in such an ostentatious house.
A petite elderly woman stood behind the front desk, scribbling away at her ledger. She finally looked up when they both stood directly in front of her. She reluctantly set her pen down and looked at them expectantly. "Good evening, ma'am, I have a room reserved for Barnes." She glanced down at the ledger and then back up at Bucky. "Yes, I have one room reserved for Mr. James Barnes for two nights." She turned her sharp gaze over to Betty and eyed her up and down. Betty shifted uncomfortably in her shoes. "And who are you?" Betty opened her mouth to respond but Bucky jumped in. "This is my wife, Betty. We just got hitched a few weeks ago." The lie lingered in the air between the three of them and Betty felt grateful she had the foresight to wear gloves to hide her naked finger. The woman relaxed a bit but as she looked down at the reservation book in front of her, she wrinkled her nose. "Newlyweds…" she mumbled to herself. "I'm moving you to the corner bedroom so as not to disturb the other guests." The meaning of her words was clear. Her black eyes flicked accusingly between them.
She reached under the desk and produced a single brass key with a red ribbon and card attached to the end. "Your room is on the third floor. Breakfast is served at seven o'clock on the dot and ends at eight-thirty and not a minute later." Bucky took the key from her. "Thank you, ma'am."
"My name is Mrs. Brewer if you need anything else." And with that she picked up her pen again and went straight back into her work, silently dismissing them. Bucky bent to grab the suitcases and led the way up the grand staircase. Betty's eyes dart around the great hall, thinking that she could spend days just exploring the mansion. She paused every few footsteps to admire pieces of artwork that littered the antique wood paneling.
Betty wasn't prepared at all for the grandeur of the bedroom they had been assigned. It was at the very far end of the hall, not surrounded by any other rooms, giving them an extra sense of privacy.
"I can't believe one family used to live in a house like this." Betty marveled as she ran her fingers across the gaudy navy wallpaper. "It reminds me a bit of my grandma's house. Hers is much smaller of course." Betty whipped her head to the side to stare at him, he very rarely talked about his extended family. "Is there a secret Barnes family fortune you keep hidden in Indiana?"
"If there was, they spent it years ago."
"What a shame." She murmured. "Don't know what I'm doing here if there isn't a family fortune to secure." He set the two suitcases down and took a step closer to her. "You're here because you want to have the best-looking kids in Brooklyn."
"Those are bold words coming from a man who hasn't proposed." He took another step towards her with a cheeky look on his face. His arms splayed out on either side of her head, caging her against the closet door. "Oh, I haven't? My mistake, sweetheart." Bucky leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, tension crackling between them before he finally leaned in, capturing her lips fully.
Their hands found their way to each other, caressing with a desperation that conveyed an insatiable hunger for one another. Without hesitation they explored the curves and contours of each other's bodies, leaving no inch untouched. Every touch ignited a cascade of shivers, as their desire intensified and the world around them faded even further.
His hands found their way under the hem of her dress and skimmed up her leg until he found the naked skin above her stockings. She moaned into the kiss as he spread her thighs further apart and wedged himself in between. Just as she began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt an abrupt knock came at the door.
"Supper in fifteen minutes." Mrs. Brewer accusing tone reverberated through the thick wooden door. As their lips parted, a haze of desire and contentment enveloped them. Their eyes locked, still filled with a fervor that spoke volumes about the depth of their emotions. Bucky's head dropped down onto Betty's shoulder as he groaned with displeasure. "Some timing…." Bucky whined as they listened to the clicking of the older woman's footsteps retreat down the long hallway. "There will be plenty of time for that later," Betty promised with a sparkling smile as she raked her fingers through her tangled hair, smoothing it back into place.
They both took a minute to sort themselves out before heading down to the dining room. The other guests of the Inn were a motley crew. There was a table with an elderly couple dressed in formal dining attire, thirty-years out of date next intermingled with the town's nouveau riche. Betty felt out of place in such an ornate room. She thought about the people who built this place, that never got to enjoy the riches they had so beautifully created. Her own grandfather had broken his body building the Brooklyn Bridge.
"Betty? You alright?" Her eyes flicked back to Bucky who looked at her with concern. She slid the ivory napkin into her nap. "Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment." Dinner was a quiet affair, Betty was too afraid of breaking any sort of unspoken upper class rules to really enjoy herself. They spent most of the time waffling between soft conversation and the quiet clinking of silverware against bone china.
As they ascended the grand staircase up to the third floor a feeling of apprehension washed over Betty, sending her spiraling. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She stopped just inside the threshold of the room, her feet refusing to carry her any farther into the room. There's a small bar cart near the bay window that overlooks Mount's Bay. Set upon it was a series of crystal glasses and decanters full of amber liquids. Bucky sweeps his way across the room, hardly noticing that she was still lingering in the entryway.
"Want a drink?" He inquired, back still turned to her. "I'm going to take a bath." She prayed he didn't hear the nervous hitch in her voice as she scrambled to drag her entire suitcase into the bathroom. Before he could respond, she was already inside with the door shut. She slid down the wall in relief. She unlocked the latches of the worn leather case, digging to the bottom to find a delicate pink satin nightgown with a matching robe buried beneath the rest of her travel clothes. She hung the ensemble from a towel hook near the vanity in the hopes that the steam from the bath would naturally iron out some of the creases.
Turning, she bent over and slowly turned the hot water knob. The pipes shuttered loudly in the walls then water burst out of the faucet, making Betty nearly skid off the edge of the tub. She walked over to the vanity and set her makeup bag on the white marble countertop. She dug through the contents until she found her bobby pins. She twirled her hair into a loose bun atop her head, making sure that all of the little strands were nice and secure. She stared at her reflection in the oversize mirror contemplating whether or not she should take her makeup off. She was reasonably sure he hadn't seen her without since they were kids and the prospect scared her. On the other hand, he had seen her bruised and bloody after the beating she had taken from Frank Sheehan and it couldn't possibly be worse than that. She ran a damp washcloth along the contour of her face, carefully avoiding her eyebrows and eyelashes, not ready to let him see her with a completely bare face. Finally, she slipped out of her clothes, only allowing herself a glance at her naked figure.
Betty sat on the edge of the cast iron bathtub, running her fingers under the water until it ran scalding hot. When the water finally filled most of the tub, she shed her satin robe and dipped her legs into the bath. She groaned as she sunk into the steamy depth. The tub was large enough for her to stretch her legs out to the end. She laid her head down on the enameled surface and let herself just relax for a moment.
She tried not to think about what was going to happen once she finished her bath. She knew logically that she didn't have to go through with it and that if she simply told him she had changed her mind, he would respect her decision. She wanted this but she didn't know how to want it. It was as if her brain and her body were sending two vastly different messages. Her body craved him, wanted his touch but her brain was screaming that this isn't what good girls do. Good girls didn't spend the night in a hotel with men that weren't their husbands. Good girls didn't fantasize about sleeping with men that weren't their husbands. Betty brought her knees up to her chest and rested her head on her legs.
She reviewed what she knew about the matter. Most of her education had come from school, nuns weren't exactly the most knowledgeable or reassuring voices when it came to sex. Sister Bernadine had drilled into their heads that it was sacred, strictly for marriage, and only to be endured for the sake of their future husbands. She also mentioned that women who enjoyed the act, particularly outside the confines of marriage, were whores. Her mother had been slightly softer on the issue. Being a nurse, she had instructed her on the clinical mechanics of the act and that of course it was for procreation, but offhandedly that it could be enjoyable under certain circumstances, but failed to mention what those circumstances were. The rest of the gaps had been filled in by schoolyard gossip and from handsy former boyfriends.
She felt embarrassed by her inexperience and her anxiety. She knew that he would never do anything to hurt her or disrespect her. It was simply different for men, they didn't have to live with the stigma that surrounded being labeled an easy woman. Betty sunk deeper into the water, trying to drown out Sister Bernadine's voice in her head calling her a slut.
When the water became almost too cool to bear, Betty finally emerged on shaky legs. She wrapped the fluffy white towel around herself. She walked over to the vanity and sat down on the cushioned seat. She leaned forward and stared at herself in the cloudy mirror, scrutinizing her appearance. Normally she didn't give herself a second glance but today her cheeks were too sunken in, her lips too thin, her eyes too bulging, and her breasts too small. She put her head down on the warm wooden surface before she could find something else to criticize herself on. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, trying to calm herself down.
Casting her eyes away from the punishing mirror, she finished drying off before slipping on the beautiful pink silk nightgown she had traded a girl down the hall for three-weekend shifts. It felt weightless on her body, making her feel exposed. She reminded herself over and over that this was her idea. She wanted this and she couldn't let her fear and anxiety overshadow her eagerness. She took the pins out of her hair, letting the blonde tresses fall across her shoulders. She combed out the knots with her fingers and twirled the curls back into place until they were perfect.
With a shaking hand, she turned the handle of the door as the yellow light of the bathroom flooded the bedroom. She snapped the light off and scurried toward the center of the room. Bucky was leaning against the large bay window with his back towards her. He was holding one of the crystal glasses filled with a dark liquid. The curtains were askew and letting in a flood of moonlight.
"It's well past blackout." He didn't turn and face her even as she neared him.
"I know, I just haven't seen this many stars since we lived in Indiana. I just wanted to look for a minute." She lets a faint smile trace across her lips. "C'mere you can almost see straight to the ocean…" He turned around to beckon her over, but the words die on his lips. She watched his bright blue eyes as they followed the contours of her body and back up to her eyes. "Bette…"
"I can't tell if that's good or bad." She joked as she bit the inside of her cheek. He took a step forward and hesitantly placed his hands on her waist. She could feel the heat radiating off him through the thin fabric. "You're gorgeous." He reached up and brushed an errant curl off of her face. He seized the opportunity to lean down and brushed his nose against hers. Betty's eyes fluttered closed as she wrapped her arms around his chest and simply let herself be held for a moment.
"I'll take that drink now." Bucky cracked a smile and turned back towards the bar cart. He handed her a glass of sweet brandy, which she promptly threw back and choked down. She scrunched her face as the warm liquor burned its way down. "I miss ice. Why haven't the Brits figured out ice yet?" She held her glass back out to him for a second pour which he indulged. She downed the second glass with the same fervor.
"You okay there, sweetheart?" She thought about pouring herself a third glass to steady her nerves, but she thought better of it. "I'm incredibly nervous." She admitted the words spilling out of her before she had a chance to stop them.
"I'm nervous too." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. She was taken aback by his confession. "Why are you nervous? I thought you've done this before."
"I know but-" His pretty blue eyes lingered on the oriental rug underneath his feet, refusing to meet her gaze.
"But what?" She ran her lacquered nails delicately up his arms.
"But it's you." He says softly. His hands don't drop from her bare arms and she could feel the heat radiating off of him. Her stomach twisted nervously as his thumbs rubbed half circles onto her arms. She reached up and placed her hands on each side of his face. "How could I possibly make you nervous?"
"How could you not? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met and I'm just some schmuck you know. I spend every waking moment hoping I don't fuck it all up." She reached out and placed her hands on his cheeks. "Hey, if either of us is going to fuck all of this up, let's agree it's going to me. Between the two of us, we both know who has the commitment issues." He cracked a smile at that, and she started to forget why she was feeling nervous in the first place. She leaned forward and kissed him. She felt him let go of her arms and instead snake his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He pulled away for a moment and leaned his forehead against hers.
"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to." He said softly before leaning down and kissing her again. This time she's the one who pulls away. "I want you." She wrapped his arms around his neck, and she could feel his smile against her lips. She started to clumsily unbutton his shirt, hoping she did't rip any of the buttons off. He shrugged it off and lets it fall to the floor. She felt his tongue slip into her mouth while she fumbled with his belt and the button of his pants. She tried to ignore her pounding heart and the slight quiver of her hands as the belt clinked to the ground.
He stood in front of her with just his boxers and Betty tried to keep her eyes focused on his face and not on what was happening below his waist. "This feels a little unfair." His tone amused, gesturing to the floor-length nightgown she was still wearing. "You know I never play fair, Barnes." She shivered as he slid his fingers down her back, gently unhooking each delicate satin button that lined her spine.
Betty could feel the cool night air prickle the newly exposed skin and she suppressed another shiver. His hands glided back up to her shoulders and he began to push the straps down until finally, the fabric was just a pool around her feet. Anxiety brewed in her stomach again as he turned her around to finally take a proper look at her. For the second time in her life, she was laid bare before him. But this time there would be no distractions.
"Stop staring at me." Letting a hint of humor drip into the remark to mask how self-conscious she felt in front of him. She resisted the urge to cover her bare breasts. "Can't help it, darlin'. You're too goddamn pretty." Bucky took a half step forward until their noses were brushing. Ever so gently, he leaned down and captured her lips. It was a kiss meant to quiet her nerves. She raked her fingers through his hair as he apprehensively let his hands drift from her waist up to her breasts. She let out a small gasp as he cupped them fully.
Bucky moved his lips to the curve of her shoulder and across her collarbone, his lips so achingly soft against her skin. Ever so gently he pushed her down on top of the quilted bed. His touch grew even more frantic as he lowered his lips to her nipple and took it in his mouth. Betty gasped as he swirled his tongue around the swollen bud, suddenly grateful that Mrs. Brewer had the foresight to put them in a room so far away from the other guests. His mouth against her sensitive breast sent shockwaves throughout her body.
Betty could feel his hands on her inner thighs tracing their way upwards until finally, he had found his way in between her legs. Her heart started to pound wildly and suddenly she clamped her legs shut and jumped back from his touch. Bucky quickly retracted his hands, nearly falling off the end of the bed.
"You okay?" Concern laced his voice. Betty brought her hands up to her face, her cheeks were flushed, and humiliation seeped into her core. "I'm sorry." Her voice was low and tight with emotion. Bucky sat up but reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "Don't apologize, we can stop if you want." Betty shook her head. "No, I just need a moment." He nodded, giving her a second to breathe before she pulled him back to her. She kissed him again. He was so warm and gentle with her. He kissed her as if they existed outside of time.
Betty felt herself becoming more at ease. As she sank deeper into the kiss, she could feel her touch becoming bolder, allowing herself to explore more of him than ever before. She pushed her hand under the waistband of his boxers but didn't quite dare to go farther than that. His hands roamed over her soft curves, tracing every inch of skin. Warm lips slowly trailed down her chest again, marking a pathway down to her breasts. His teeth nipped at her skin as he traveled lower. Her fingers latched onto his hair and she whimpered his name. He rested his head on her stomach, glancing up for just a moment before giving her the most breathtaking smile she had ever seen.
"Those noises you're making are going to kill me, sweetheart. I've never wanted anyone so bad in my life." Betty fought against her instinct to roll her eyes; she knew that he was being sincere. He made his way further down her stomach, making sure to take his time with every new inch of her that was revealed. Finally, Bucky found his way back in between her thighs. He hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder and kept her other thigh firmly gripped in his hand. "What the hell are you going, Barnes?" She tried to sound stern but there is a hint of anxiety in her voice.
"I need you to trust me, sweetheart."
"Okay…" As she trailed off as she felt him shift under the blankets. She was about to peek under there and ask him again what he is doing when suddenly she started to feel the most incredible and confusing sensation. His lips met her wet heat and Betty bit down on her lip to stop the flow of moans and obscenities from tumbling out of her mouth. Normally, Betty would be mortified by this but at this moment, she didn't care what he was doing, she just didn't want him to stop. It all felt so good but so unbearable at the same time like at any moment she might tumble over a precipice. Carefully he slid a finger inside her and her whole body went rigid, her toes curled, and she bit her lip again to stop an unladylike gasp from escaping her lips. He alternated between using his tongue and his the pad of his thumb to massage her sweet spot.
White hot pleasure sent hockwaves throughout her body. She took back everything she thought previously, she understood why this was considered a sin. She was still catching her breath as he snaked his way back, litering her skin with soft kisses. She grabbed him and locked her arms around his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. "What the hell was that?" She asked, still catching her breath.
Bucky slowly eased another finger inside of her. Betty whimpered, grasping his shoulders. He stopped his movement. "That good?"
"Y-yes."
That was all the encouragement he needed. He curled them slightly, hitting parts of her anatomy that Betty did not previously know existed. As the sensation built in her lower belly, he steadily increased the pace. His thumb continuously swiped over the bundle of nerves. Pleasure burned white hot in her core. Every few strokes he curled his fingers into a spot that made her knees shake. Betty felt herself tense before her climax washed over her. The feeling spread across her entire body, right down to her fingertips. She cried out his name as she finished and a satisfied smirk painted his face.
"You made the prettiest face as you were calling my name, darlin'." Betty's face flushed bright pink. Instead of making a sarcastic remark, she pulled him back up until their noses were brushing and kissed him with everything she could muster. His knee pushed between her thighs, parting them once again.
He kissed her lazily as he waited for her breathing to even out. He leaned onto one elbow, the bed dipping slightly under the weight, while the other hand brushed her curls off her damp forehead. "We can stop now if you want."
"Knock it off, Barnes."
He rolled off her for a moment fiddling with something just off the side of the bed. Her eyebrows knit together as she listened to the sounds of a metal clasp and paper being ripped. She nearly sat up in bed to investigate what he was doing when she caught a brief glimpse of the rubber in his hand. She blushed and flicked her eyes to the embossed ceiling, doing everything to avoid looking between his legs. Finally, he returned to his spot on top of her. Betty could feel him hard against her inner thighs and she resisted the urge to snap them back together again. He guided himself between her legs until she could feel the tip of him brush up against her center.
"You ready?" He asked, his voice strained. She couldn't answer, so she nodded vigorously as she felt him push himself inside her. The expected pain is there but more than anything it burned from the stretching. They stayed like that for a few moments, locked in an intimate embrace. Betty twisted her hips trying to get some relief from the strange new sensation.
"You okay?" He asked through gritted teeth, he almost sounded like he was also in pain but Betty knew that wasn't the case. She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. She felt him start to move at first it was slow and shallow but eventually he started to pick up the pace a bit. Despite how gentle he was with her, the uncomfortable feeling has yet to disappear, but Betty didn't have the heart to tell him. She pressed her nails into his biceps until his arms were littered with crescent indents. He leaned down and panted into the crook of her neck "You feel perfect." He said in a shaky voice. His hands roaming down to her hips, tilting them upwards giving him a better angle and-
Oh.
Pleasure crackled through her veins and the pain melted away into something entirely new. The movement left her gasping for air. She gripped his arm so tightly she littered his skin with tiny half-moon indentations. "You like that?" By the way he beamed down at her, she knew it was a rhetorical question. Pieces of his hair fell into his face and she raked it back onto his scalp, holding on to him like he was a lifeline. His warm breath fluttered against her skin. He kept a slow, gradual rhythm, holding her hips in place with an iron grip. Pleasure bloomed throughout her body. Betty bit down on her lip to stop herself from moaning but Bucky dropped his head into her shoulder and whispered, "I wanna hear you." Betty doesn't have the sense to be embarrassed by his request, instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him deeper inside her. He snaked one of his hands between their bodies and rubbed tight circles between her thighs. Betty's neck craned upwards and she let out a breathy moan.
"There we go babydoll." He panted between gritted teeth before surging forward with another powerful thrust. His fingers brushed over her sweet spot causing her eyes to roll back. "James." She whined into his shoulder.
"Fuck. Say it again." He groaned, his pace quickening. "James, please." She whined, the same sensation was building in her core again. She pulled him in so tightly that she was unsure where he began and where she ended. The coil in her belly wound tighter until it finally snapped. She cried out his name again, which only spurred him on more. The bed springs groaned underneath them and the metal frame banged against the wall with every stroke.
Bucky's pace because quicker and more erratic until his breathing pitched lower and hips rolling as he came. His head dipped into the crook of her shoulder, his hot breath fluttering against her cooling skin. Finally after several moments of blissful stillness, he rolled to his side, grabbing Betty and pulling her into his arms in the process.
"Holy shit." He breathed as he laid a firm kiss on the crown of her head. "I love you Bette." Betty listened to the sound of his heart beat in his chest. Once their breathing had evened out and heartbeats had returned to a normal pace, he reluctantly his slid off the bed and disposed of the rubber. He jumped back into bed and pulled her back into the circle of his arms. "Was that good for you?" There was a timid edge to his voice. Betty laid an affectionate kiss on his chest before popping her head up to look at him. "Yes." She smiled. "And you?" A wave of self-consciousess felled her. "I mean I know I'm inexperienced…" She sputtered out.
"Knock it off Rogers. You were perfect." His large hand crandled her face before he leaned down and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Everyone else pales in comparison." As much as she wanted to doubt his sweet words, they were laced with so much sincerity she was forced to believe him.
"Where did you learn…uh the thing with your mouth." Betty blushed. Bucky beamed with pride. "You can thank Rosemary DiAngelo for that." She bit back a smile remembering all of the times that Winnie Barnes had lectured him about what a bad influence Rosemary was and clearly she had been right. Rosemary was a deliciously bad influence. "I'll be sure to send her a card." Bucky snorted at the thought. "I'm glad you liked that, sweetheart." She hadn't liked it, she had loved it but she didn't correct him.
Betty yawned, the exhaustion finally setting in. She snuggled closer to him and he draped his arm over her waist, pulling her in even tighter. "Go to sleep, doll." She nodded sleepily as she sunk deeper into the mattress.
When Betty woke again the room was still dark. As she came to her senses, the memories of their previous activities all start to rush back. Betty feels her face becoming hot at the memory. As she replays everything back in her mind, she can suddenly feel his fingers tracing their way up from her thigh, over her hip, to the dip in her waist, up her arm, and then they were brushing the hair away from her neck. She can feel his lips on her skin and once again she feels that familiar nervous flutter in her stomach. After a few moments, he rests his chin in the crook of her neck and used his arm to pull her flush up against him.
"What time is it?"
She craned her head upwards and gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the blackness surrounding them. The faint glowing of the radium hands of the bedside clock indicates an hour neither of them should be awake. "It's three forty-nine." She responded as she placed her head back down on the pillow. He groaned, "I think the goddamn army has permanently screwed up my sleeping schedule. Feels like I should be getting up to do patrols right now."
"Poor thing, instead you're stuck in bed with me."
"Poor me indeed." He hummed as he continued to trace patterns across the exposed expenses of her skin. She sighed and leaned in closer to him wanting to soak it all in. She basked in the afterglow of it all, wondering why she had ever been nervous, to begin with. Nothing that her mother, the nuns, or any of her friends had told her about the act would have ever led her to believe how incredible it was. She hadn't been prepared for how wonderfully vulnerable he made her feel.
In the dark of the night with their legs tangled together and his chest pressed against her back, Bucky brushed the hair away from her neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips directly below her ear, kissing the skin before whispering, "Bette?" There was a nervous lilt to his voice. "Marry me?"
And in the dark of the night with nothing but stray moonbeams as a witness, she whispered back, "Yes."