bakerstreet | Wedding Night

Wedding Night

The Wedding Night Meme
a smut/shipping meme

The wedding bells have rung - or the correct sacrifices have been made, depending on your culture. Whatever the case may be, you're married now, and the night is yours. However, there is one expectation on you: it's time to consummate the marriage.

Whether you're in love, in this marriage because it was arranged, or absolutely in hate with your new spouse, you're with them now. Have you two been intimate before this, or is your first time...with them or first time period? Do you know what you want and are you full of lust, or do you have no clue what's going on? Maybe you even have to seduce your partner who wants nothing to do with this!

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In the space of a moment, Jemma had decided she simply refused to let herself feel awkward. It did absolutely no good and, as she'd said, they were both adults. Brilliant scientists and perfectly capable of handling the situation like that. Besides, it wasn't as if this was the first time she'd been in a strange, uncomfortable situation. Nothing quite this grand, of course, but all the same. She ought to be able to at least act normally.

And they were what they were now. So they may as well embrace it.

Reaching out with her free hand, Jemma touched his arm, smiling. "It will all be just fine," she assured. "Maybe we should get to know one another a little?" That would certainly make this whole thing less awkward. "But first, would you mind at all helping me out of this monstrosity?"

The wedding dress was lovely, really it was. Jemma had never felt more like a princess than she did wearing it. But she was really more of a jeans and sneakers kind of woman.

The gentle touch was reassuring, and it reminded Bruce that he shouldn't just focus on himself, no matter how awkward or strange he might feel in this situation. They were adults, and accomplished scientists to boot. There was no need for him to be acting this way.

Her suggestion was welcome and he nodded, enjoying the idea of simply having a normal conversation after so much pomp and ceremony, but the mention of helping her take off her dress left his cheeks tinged red. A soft, embarrassed chuckle left his throat as he put his glass down on the table and he found himself struggling to meet her eyes again.

She was pretty. And young. Too young, probably, for him. He hadn't allowed his brain to wander because it didn't feel right; they weren't in love, they'd barely touched one another. This wasn't supposed to mean anything.

Nonetheless, he slipped around her and reached up to gently brush her hair from her neck before undoing the top few buttons of her dress. He decided that she could tell him when she wanted privacy, and until then he would be as respectful as possible without being completely dorky.

"I heard about your foray into Peru," he said at last, his mind latching onto the facts he knew about Jemma to keep from lapsing into total silence once again. "Did you like it there?" He'd been to the country himself for a little while, after the incident.

With the amount of time it had taken to get into the silly dress, Jemma was convinced there had to be somewhere upwards of a thousand little buttons. A complete exaggeration, and she knew that, but it felt that way. She kept still, holding the front of the dress in place while it was unbuttoned, her bright smile though, may as well have been audible.

"It was amazing!" she enthused as her back was bared, skin smooth and pale. "I haven't had much opportunity to be in the field." She wasn't qualified for that, the assessments for it being the only ones she'd ever done poorly at. Being clever and eager to please were probably the only things that had made it possible at all. "Peru was certainly exciting."

And they'd made a very important scientific discovery. One Jemma hadn't gotten enough time to study before being swept off into other things, into this. "You've been, haven't you? I've heard you have been but...."

One could never trust the gossip one heard at the Hub.

A grin crossed Bruce's face as Jemma immediately launched into enthusiastic chatter. Her voice was nice to listen to, he realized, as the lilting tones of her accent wound their way into his mind. As excited as she was, she wasn't overly boisterous or annoying in the least. He wanted to give her reasons to speak so he could keep listening to those tones.

His grin quirked upwards at one corner when she mentioned having heard of his own exploits. News of his own travels spread quickly, it seemed, even when the goal was to keep himself off the map. "Yes, a few years ago. I liked it a lot there." He'd found peace, for a little while, before he had to move on.

He would've continued, but the appearance of Jemma's smooth, pale skin was fairly distracting. He came to the bottom of the buttons, which ended at the small of her back, and then he did something without thinking: he reached up to run his thumb down along the line of her spine, very faintly. He didn't really mean anything by it; he was simply engrossed in the sight of her.

"Oh. I was under the impression it had been much more recent." When all her information had come from gossip, it was to be expected that it wouldn't be completely correct. Not minding the mistake at all, Jemma simply filed the correction away.

Her thoughts were sidetracked when there was an unexpected caress against her back, causing her to shiver. Not unpleasantly, quite the opposite. His touch was reassuringly gentle, even soothing, brushing aside the lingering tension, hesitation, and fear. She pressed her lips together for a second, making the snap decision not to move away, lest he think she disliked the gesture. Instead, she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

"I imagine I know why you moved on. Where did you go from there?"

For a moment Bruce feared she would pull away from him, react to his touch the way so many people reacted to his mere presence - with disgust, fear, repulsion. But she stayed where she was, apparently undisturbed, perhaps even enjoying it. Her aquiescence leaves him feeling a little more relaxed, and a light smile touches his lips.

As he looked up to meet her gaze, he hesitated, his fingers pausing against her skin momentarily. He didn't often speak of his time on the run, mostly because no one was interested in hearing about it - or maybe because they were afraid of how he would react if asked. He liked Jemma's curiosity, though, and he found the prospect of opening up to her less daunting than expected.

"To Brazil," he replied at last, his fingertips drawing light patterns over her shoulderblades now, still light and a delicate and easy to pull away from if unwanted. "I was looking for a cure." His lips twisted for a second, and darkness flashed in his eyes. "No luck, though." Not then or since.

"And then I came back," he added, trying to get away from the memories of that time and place. "For a little while, anyway. Tried to help the military." His smile returned and he gave her a knowing look. "I'm sure you read all about that fiasco."

Astute enough to see that the memories weren't pleasant, Jemma paused her questioning to adjust its course. This whole situation was uncomfortable enough for the both of them without adding to it with things like that.

Remaining perfectly still and allowing herself instead to relax to the fingers tracing against her skin, wondering though what if any intent lie behind it, if she was meant to respond in kind, she hummed agreeably. "It's in your file," she confirmed. Of course she'd read about that. She'd read a lot more than most people might have been able to. Level five security clearance in the science division gave her access to a lot that was even vaguely related to her interests, including a good deal of Bruce Banner's file. "What isn't, at least not at my clearance level, is what happened after that."

She was interested. Naturally so. What did a man like Bruce do with his life when he was hiding? But the little pricks of pleasure left in the wake of the patterns he drew against her skin distracted more than she cared to admit to.

By now Bruce was used to people he didn't know knowing all sorts of things about him. That was part of working for - and being monitored by - SHIELD. That didn't mean he liked it, of course, but he understood the whys of the situation and made himself accept them. There wasn't much he could do to clear his file, short of smashing the entire SHIELD archives, and even then they'd have backups of everything in five different international locations. There was no point in getting stressed over it.

Besides, they couldn't have everything. Bruce had made sure of that. His smile turned softer, more melancholy, as Jemma prodded him to continue. Of course she wouldn't know; he'd only admitted this to the Avengers and to Fury. He had no doubt only the highest-level operatives knew about it. He didn't really want to tell her, but he knew she'd find the truth out sooner or later, and besides - they were married. That still meant something, even if it was just for show.

His fingers paused on her skin before trailing upwards to play gently with the strans of hair at the base of her neck. He was touching her more or less unconsciously now, his brain pulled back to that time and place as though it were happening again for the first time.

"I went as far away as I could," he said, his voice quiet. There was shame there, as well as regret, tangible in the weight and slowness of his words. "So I wouldn't hurt anyone. I tried - "

Christ. He didn't want her to have to know. She was so bright, so young - he could see admiration in her eyes whenever they looked at each other. He respected her, though, her and her great intelligence. He wasn't about to treat her like a child.

"I tried to end it," he said at last, unable to hide the defeat in his tone and expression. "I thought if I was dead, people would be safe from me. But it didn't work."

While Jemma was brilliant, enthusiastic, and practical, she was also deeply kind. The was a very, very short list of people she actively disliked and wished ill. And Bruce, the man she was learning to see as equally kind and unfathomably gentle despite the monster he kept within, was far from being a part of that list.

She turned properly then, stepping closer as she did in a hint that was surprisingly conscious, hoping he took it and didn't withdraw his hand. The contact was nice, intimate, and whether it was required or not, exactly the sort of thing she would expect a man she'd married to do, the sort of thing she'd hope for.

"Oh." Her voice was small. One hand held her dress firmly to her chest, though the fabric sagged slightly and was less modest than it had been, and the other lifted impulsively, sliding across his jaw to rest with her fingers brushing against his hair. "I'm glad that it didn't."

It wasn't much of an offering, but it was honest. He would have been a great loss, and she never would have had the opportunity to meet him, to talk to him. Never would have known how much more man than monster he really was.

The shift of Jemma's body drew Bruce out of his thoughts, and he began to retract his hand - but her eyes were kind, and her expression understanding, so he kept it where it was, his thumb stroking absently at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. He could see that her dress was all but ready to be removed, but he kept his eyes on her face, moved by the empathy he saw there.

Her touch was light, like the wings of some small insect, and it made his eyes flutter closed for a moment. It felt reassuring. He had rarely been touched so delicately, and the desire he felt for it frightened him. She didn't have to touch him at all if she didn't want to. He wasn't going to force her hand. It was easy to understand if she didn't want anything to do with him, especially in terms of intimacy.

But somehow she seemed alright with it, with this much at least, and that drew a weight from Bruce's shoulders. He reopened his eyes to find her gaze again just as she expressed her thanks for his continued existence.

He parted his lips, but he didn't know what to say. This situation was so strange, but with her he felt safe, despite only knowing her for a few weeks. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her. That was what happened in the movies, right? The pretty girl and the monster of a man, brought together by dire circumstances, fall in love. Happily ever after.

Was there any chance he could give her that?

"Jemma," he said finally, the word soft and small on his lips, barely leaving his mouth as though it were a treasure he needed to keep safe. He hesitated. Then, urged on by some unknown emotion, he leaned forward to very carefully press his lips to the corner of her mouth, just shy of an actual kiss. When he pulled back his eyes dropped from her face, unsure.

"Sorry," he murmured, suddenly sure that he'd made a mistake, that he'd overstepped a boundary.

She was surprised when he moved in, naturally so. They barely knew one another, though she couldn't pretend there wasn't a growing fondness. They'd been pulled into all of this and she never would have expected anything like a kiss. But then, wasn't it a completely natural thing? She'd certainly kissed far less interesting people in the past.

Jemma's brow furrowed slightly as he pulled away without even kissing her properly, as he looked away from her, but quickly it smoothed out to gentle concern again, and once more she ducked her own face to catch his eye. Just enough to prompt him to raise his head, just enough that she could pull him back to her and this time, press her lips to his.

Maybe it wasn't falling in love, it was unlikely to be happily ever after, but it wasn't something terrible or distasteful, and Jemma did like Bruce well enough for what she knew of him. She liked being with him, talking to him, his hand against her skin, and being married to him was far from the worst circumstances they could be in. He was nice enough to look at and age wasn't a factor to her. Why shouldn't she kiss him?

Why shouldn't she want to kiss him?

She lingered, lips doing the assuring for her, saying without her that she didn't mind, it was fine, for a few moments. When she did draw back, it was only a fraction of the space that had been between them before, and only to smile, eyes shining.

Of all the things Bruce expected Jemma to do, kissing him was not one of them. The press of her lips against his own startled him for a moment, but he relaxed into it, allowing himself to enjoy this particular expression of intimacy. He had been afraid to touch her because he felt she might not want him - there were many reasons that could be possible, after all, not least that they were in a strange situation wherein it would be easy to pressure her into things.

She seemed at peace with what was happening, though, and that was reassuring. He wasn't going to push her, but if she got closer - physically, emotionally - he wouldn't back away. He could already tell that she was a very nice person to be around. It was easy to let his own barriers fall when they spoke, which was unfortunately something that most people never experienced.

The duration of the kiss was perfect: just long enough for him to truly realize that, yes, this was alright, he hadn't ruined things, but not so long that he felt embarrassed or confused about her intentions. When they parted his lips quickly formed a smile of their own, and he kept himself close, thoroughly enjoying the way she was looking at him.

If the circumstances had been different, he wondered, would they still end up like this somehow? They seemed a good match in almost every sense. A wave of protectiveness washed over him as he continued to look at her. She deserved only good things.

"Jemma," he said again, repeating her name more warmly now, as though he were more familiar with it because of the kiss they had shared. Then, more cautiously, he continued, "I want you to know - if I do something you don't like, please tell me. I only want to make you happy."

Despite the minimal time they'd spent together thus far, Bruce truly did care about her.

There were a hundred reasons why she should probably be smarter about all of this. Attraction aside, this had all happened so fast, so unexpectedly, and kindness aside, there was a monster that lurked within the man. She should at least be wary, if not afraid. Jemma had heard stories, seen the broadcasts and read the files, though. So long as tempers were kept, everything ought to be fine, right?

She wanted so much to believe that.

Nodding to his words, she stroked her fingers against his cheek, her hesitant touch little more than a breath against his skin. His obvious affection toward her was touching. They were barely more than strangers now, but surely they could be more, could truly make this marriage work for real if even half of what she thought she saw in him was true. If even a fraction of what she thought she felt for him was true. "I will."

Jemma wasn't the most open sort of person, but Bruce made her want to be in a way no one had before. The hand holding her dress in place against her chest clenched slightly to hide her uncertainty. "If you wanted...."

The suggestion, the invitation for another kiss at least, for much more than that, died on her lips, but her gaze was hopeful.

Her touch was so gentle it almost wasn't there, but Bruce enjoyed it for precisely that reason. She wasn't afraid of him or repulsed by him. He knew he wasn't bad-looking, but there were many, many reasons why people weren't attracted to him tha this looks didn't make a difference either way. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed this type of intimacy until he felt her fingers against his skin and saw the way she looked at him.

That didn't mean they were a perfect pair, of course. One night of soft touches did not a successful love story make. But the fact that they could have this at the very least made him feel warmer, more at peace with the world.

Darn it, Fury. The man had known this would happen, hadn't he? He'd probably made Maria create a whole chart about it, had her calculate the probabilities before making his final decision. It didn't matter now, though. They were married, and they had kissed, and now Jemma seemed to want him to kiss her again - and Bruce couldn't just turn down a request from his wife, now, could he?

A shy smile alighted on his lips as he leaned back in, kissing her with more confidence this time but remaining chaste. His thumb brushed across her cheekbone affectionately before he pulled back. Noticing that she had to hold her dress up, he murmured, "Maybe we should get changed? I think Pepper gave us pyjamas as a wedding gift." Matching ones, no doubt. Pepper was thoughtful about everything, in addition to being very romantic when given the opportunity.

For just a moment while he kissed her again, Jemma allowed herself the illusion that this was a perfect wedding night, that there would be that impossible happily ever after. At heart, she was a romantic, though she tried to stifle that with science and reason. She wanted to believe, even just for that moment, that it was was something she'd decided for herself and she was in love. At least, though, she didn't have to pretend her affection. That much was real.

And the kiss itself was more than supportive of that imagination. A part of her wanted to just lose herself in it, forget about the world outside, and how strange all this was, but in the end she forced herself to keep her head about her, didn't immediately follow when he pulled away.

"Oh," she said when he suggested changing, laughing quietly at herself. She'd asked for his help doing just that, and then completely forgotten about it a second after the help was given. "Yes. Yes of course. That was very thoughtful of her."

It didn't escape her notice that he'd called Ms Potts by her name. She knew, of course, distantly, that Bruce was close with Tony Stark, but it hadn't really sunk in until that moment. Perhaps she'd have a chance to meet with him, if that was the case. Fitz would be so jealous.

Ducking her head slightly to hide her blush, Jemma reluctantly drew a step back. "Into something more comfortable, then."

Her quiet laughter and the blush that alighted upon her cheeks stirred something in Bruce's chest that was, if he was being honest, a little frightening. He remained where he was for a brief moment, not wanting to look away from her just yet. Now that they had kissed it seemed less of a problem to gaze upon her. He didn't mean anything predatory by it; she was, simply stated, incredibly beautiful. She had a plainness about her that people might mistake for some sort of lack, but to Bruce it only heightened how pretty she was. Jemma had no need for heavy makeup or gaudy jewelry. All she had to do was smile at him like that and he was hers.

His own blush returned when he finally tore his eyes away and looked down at her, remembering just what he had suggested. "Wait here," he said, offering a shy smile, before walking over to the dressing table at the side of the room. Someone had laid their wedding gifts upon it before their arrival. It was easy to find the one from Pepper; the boxes were wrapped in matching pastel-shaded paper, one blue and the other pink.

Bruce picked up both boxes and returned to Jemma. He laid her gift upon the table with the champagne, careful not to knock anything over, before glancing over the at washroom. "I'll go get changed in there," he said, trying not to bring back the awkwardness that thoughts of nudity imparted upon him. "Let me know when you're ready and I'll come out." He smiled at her again, though it was a little more hesitant this time.

Jemma thought for a second about protesting, saying it wasn't necessary. They ought not be awkward about being undressed around each other. Who knew, they may actually enjoy the thought one day, after they'd had the time to know each other. But she refrained. The offer was a kind one. It gave her the chance to not look a fool as she made her way out of the dress and fished dozens of pins out of her hair.

So she just nodded, and waited for him to disappear before heaving a sigh and undressing as quickly as she could manage. Which, really, wasn't very quickly at all. The dress came fairly easily and she was able to step out of it, leaving her shoes in the centre of the heap of fabric, but her stockings caused her more problems. She would never understand things like garters, and rather than something sensible she'd been dressed in ones that ended at her thighs and had needed to be taped in place.

Her hair caused her as much trouble, dropping at least half the pins she found, and pretty sure she hadn't gotten them all.

Dressing again was much quicker, though Jemma wasn't certain the silk shorts and camisole that fit a little too tightly around her bust that were in her box really counted as pyjamas, and as she finished she called out, moving to sit comfortably on the end of the bed.

Bruce managed to resist glancing over his shoulder at her as he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door, feeling it would somehow be inauspicious - or, at the very least, rude - to sneak a peek after declaring his intention of not seeing her naked. It wasn't that he didn't want to, not really - she was beautiful, and he was sure that extended to the rest of her. It was just too soon. He was still mindful of putting pressure on her when he had no intentions of forcing her into anything.

Being somewhat distracted, it took him a little longer than usual to fumble with the buttons on his jacket and shirt. Once he had his clothes off he opened up Pepper's gift, expecting something nice yet practical, in typical Pepper fashion. Instead, he saw something that made his stomach drop.

Inside the box were a pair of beautiful green-hued pyjama bottoms, made of silk no doubt. But in place of a matching shirt there was only a note, with the words Have a good wedding night! hastily scrawled in writing that belonged to one Tony Stark. There was even a winky face.

Bruce took a deep breath in, then exhaled through his nose slowly. At least Tony hadn't stolen his pants. It could've been worse. He crumpled the note and tossed it in a nearby garbage can before sliding into the pants. They felt incredibly comfortable, but that didn't help make him less self-conscious about his exposed upper body.

Now, he didn't have the worst body confidence in the world. Bruce was fairly certain he was at least decently attractive. But he was older, and a scientist, and those two things didn't exactly equate to killer abs. Not that Jemma would mind, probably, but it would've been nice to impress her at least a little.

When he had folded his wedding clothes and tucked them neatly inside the box, he knocked on the door a couple of times and called, "Can I come out?", waiting for a confirmation before opening the door and looking up to give Jemma a shy smile.

The smile died half-formed, though, because the sight of her in those clothes made his mouth dry up and his brain go hazy.

"You," he attempted, "You look - really nice." Wow. Good job, Banner.

As far as Jemma was concerned, it was the perfect sort of compliment. She wasn't used to being smooth and charming, would probably just be uncomfortable in the face of something like that. She, too, was a scientist, too used to being locked away in the lab with men who either didn't know what to do with a woman or didn't care that she was one at all. She was used to being complimented, knew the opposite sex found her attractive, but she was used to it being awkward.

So she smiled, a blush in her cheeks, tucking her now loose hair behind her ears. "I'm afraid they could fit better," she noted, refraining from gesturing to her chance, the glance down doing that for her. "And I'm used to something a little more...modest."

She wouldn't actually complain about it, of course. It was a very thoughtful gift, and one she hadn't expected. She ought to at least get one night's use out of them, before reverting to her own items, equally soft but much more to her own taste.

It was difficult to feel uncomfortable, though. At least not to the fault of what she was wearing. Because, it seemed, Bruce had suffered a similar fate but looked much more attractive in the results. Jemma felt like a little girl playing at being innocently sexy or some such, while he looked as though he was meant to be dressed that way. And with a physique that was nothing to be ashamed of, and honestly preferable to other well known heroes who seemed so unattainable, it was difficult to focus the way she felt she should.

Despite their sudden marriage, despite the kiss they'd shared, it seemed ridiculous to think that Bruce would want anything more than that from her, and she was intent on not pushing anything.

Bruce found himself hesitating again. He knew what he wanted to do, but it didn't seem... well, proper. All of his instincts were fighting inside of his brain, warring with one another, making him agonize over something that honestly wasn't so difficult to figure out. She'd kissed him voluntarily. That didn't equate to sex, not even close, but it meant that she at least liked him enough to be close to him.

Maybe it was time he stopped being so passive. When he looked at her he saw her beauty, of course, but he also saw how small she was, the thinness of her wrists and ankles, not unhealthy but still so small, so breakable, like a bird. He felt something stir deep within, something that was not entirely himself, and in that moment he knew he'd do whatever it took to protect her. Not out of love - not yet - but out of genuine care and respect. She deserved to be safe and happy. If she was stuck with him for the foreseeable future, that meant it was his duty to give her those things.

Feeling more purposeful, he made his way back across the room and sat down next to her, keeping a couple of inches between their bodies but also leaning in to brush their shoulders together lightly. He was still self-conscious, but that seemed to be less important now that he was close to her.

He kept his eyes on her face, getting caught up again in the structure and angles there. There was something mathematical about her beauty; he felt he could distill it into logic, create a perfect formula. But he wouldn't. He wanted to keep this bit of science to himself.

"I'd really like to kiss you again," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop to think and second-guess them. A flush rose on his cheeks but he smiled nonetheless, feeling just a little more confident now.

More than simply accepting to his presence, Jemma's body shifted when he joined her, reacting to his nearness, welcoming him without a thought. She knew, obviously, what was expected of them right now. Wedding nights did have a sort of fame about them, and she'd always imagined hers to be this same sort of quiet affection and respect that the two of them had. She'd expected to be in love, but all totalled, what she'd gotten wasn't so bad. It could have been so much worse.

Her smile was affectionate, the warmth of his shoulder against hers pleasant. And then he said he wanted to kiss her, and Jemma could only blink at him for a moment.

"Oh." How was she supposed to respond to that? How did she want to respond to that? It seemed pointless to be thinking about it like it was some big, terrifying thing, particularly now, after they'd already done that much together, while they were meant to be enjoying wedded bliss and were, all else aside, sharing this room. Her thoughts flickered across her face briefly, and her expression finally settled into the same affectionate smile she'd shown before he'd spoke. "I'd like that."

He was rather good at it, and the sense that he genuinely cared poured through it. That was enough for her.

[Just a heads-up - I'll be going out of town for about a week or so, so my next reply might take a little while. Sorry!]

Even though they'd reached this point - intimacy, a removal of clothing, a clear amount of trust built up between them - Bruce was still wary of overstepping some boundary. It wasn't that he was afraid of women or worried about her not liking him; no, she seemed to like him well enough by now that that particular fear had been laid to rest. He was more concerned with pushing too far.

She seemed capable of telling him so, though, and he trusted her not to lie, especially about her own comfort and happiness. So, with all those emotions settled inside of him, he leaned forward to capture her lips once more, one hand reaching forward to cup her cheek. He was a little less chaste this time, spurred on by the sight of her, trying to find out where the boundary between them was.

It was for scientific purposes, really. Things would work better between them when they figured out exactly what the other wanted, needed, and expected. Then they could compromise. Then they could make this marriage work. Until they found that line, though - well, he was going to allow himself to kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed: not by a shy, awkward man, but by her husband, full of awe and respect and devotion.

((no problem! I'll come back to this whenever you can!))

It might seem reasonable to just talk about things. Or it would, if Jemma had any idea what her level of comfort with all of this was. She was in completely uncharted territory. It was going to take some experimentation to find what they both wanted from whatever relationship this was. Talking could come later.

For the moment, Jemma was content to let herself sink into the kiss, returning it with youthful eagerness. His hand on her cheek warm, the same not quite rough patches from too many hours in the lab as her own hands had contrast against her smooth skin. Her own hand lifted, hesitating a moment before coming to rest on his bare chest, hoping desperately that it wasn't a step too far, too soon, hoping he wouldn't mind her forwardness.

There must be a line they couldn't cross, and she worried about being the one to find it. Feared being the one to push too much, not think enough, and frighten him away from her. They'd developed a good rapport and a tentative friendship over the short time they'd spent together before the wedding. Jemma couldn't bear the thought of being the one to damage that. It must be hard for Bruce, she imagined, to develop real connections. If they were lucky, and if she was careful, she could be that to him.

They way Jemma returned the kiss, eager and perhaps a little inexperienced, brought two very clear thoughts to the forefront of Bruce's mind. The first was how glad he was that she was enjoying this, that he was making her feel good rather than frightening her away or disgusting her. The second was less innocent; he was reminded of her youth, of the years between them, and it made him want to teach her about intimacy. He had no idea what her past relationships had been like, nor how many or few there had been. Nonetheless, he liked the idea of taking the lead on this particular matter.

The press of her hand against his skin made him shiver pleasantly, his lips tugging upwards into a soft smile as he continued to kiss her. He pressed his palm over the back of her hand to reassure her that yes, this was good, before he allowed his hand to slide slowly up the length of her arm, mapping out the smooth skin there before coming to rest lightly against her shoulder. His thumb played idly with the strap of her camisole, not removing it but hinting that such an action could be undertaken if she so desired.

He only pulled away when the need for a break became evident, and even then he did so reluctantly. There was a slight flush on his cheeks, the colour caused equally by excitement and shyness. He opened his mouth to speak, but then realized he wasn't sure of what to say. As he sat there, his face still close to hers, he felt a stirring in his chest, that same need to protect and take care of her that he'd felt earlier, only stronger.

"Jemma," he managed at last, his voice quiet and earnest. "If you want anything - " he gestured to the both of them before continuing, "Here, or anywhere, please tell me. I won't do anything unless you want me to."

The immediate reaction of yes, of course she wanted something, she wanted everything he was willing to offer, was quickly shut down for a moment of rational thought. She'd hate to make a rash decision, caught up in a moment, that she'd regret later and wind up hurting him. She knew she needed to be sure. Completely sure.

She was quiet for a second, leaning her forehead against his. She enjoyed kissing him, certainly, and his touch did make her pulse rush, make her skin feel electrified. She could feel the heat spreading through her and knew what it all meant. More than just attraction, desire. It would be only too easy to let herself succumb to it. It should be easy. Bruce was kind, and gentle, had chased away all concerns about spending time with him. He'd certainly endeared himself to her, and sexual attraction, well, that had been there from the very start. She wasn't blind to how handsome he was.

It could be easy, Jemma decided quickly, and smiled, tilting her face to brush her lips against his again, quickly. "And if I want for you to do whatever you'd like?" Boldly, her hand traced down his chest, across his abdomen and around his side as she watched his eyes. "You have my word that I'll stop you if I'm uncomfortable. If you'll promise me the same."

Perhaps, since their entire relationship had been built backwards anyhow, they could develop something through being physical.

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