(no subject)

[socket2me]

the SHOWER SEX meme
> Your character is in the shower with another character because they're close enough to do that together.

> You're helping each other get clean.

> You start getting freaky. Maybe this is the sequel to earlier sex or just unwinding after a bad week.
> If you're from a canon that is set in the olden days or a world without showers, you're in a bath or a hot springs or a bathhouse.

Comments

ok i lied, one meme

[lostsoldier]

[ That she finds him first shouldn't surprise anyone. Steve is looking for a man who doesn't exist anymore, a brother in arms half a century gone; she's looking for a ghost, and she finds one. Haunting condemned warehouses in Kiev, shoeing though the wreckage of a life that wasn't really anyone's, and when he makes her the first night she follows him (if that is the first night), he is both certain and quietly grateful that it was intentional.

It's three weeks before his sidearm finds its way tucked, discreetly but safely accounted-for, beside the desk in her hotel room, his boot propping open the bathroom door like an invitation, a trail of nondescript clothes shed in his wake, and inside is just him, half-hidden in steam, letting water roll off skin he's just getting used to again.

He doesn't say я помню when she enters, but it's written there in the ease of the lines of his back, the absence of violence as stark as its presence. ]

[debts]

[ She finds him first. He's fast, and he's strong, but Natasha— Natasha knows.

Three weeks later (three weeks where Natasha dreams in fragments, of things she is and was, of things they tried to make her under his thumb), she checks in on him again. Her keycard unlocks his room rather than hers, and she means to plan the three bugs she always plants before he finds and breaks them. But it's— routine, almost, and maybe there's an insignificant value in that.

Maybe they're all just children after all.

The gun ends up beside her desk. He's in her room and her shower, and Natasha— she pauses in the doorway of the bathroom. Watches him through the steam, the fogged glass of the shower cab.

She undresses slowly. Each item of clothing removed and pooling at her feet before she joins him, her cheek pressed against the middle of his shoulderblades, and she— breathes. Just breathes. ]