Work Text:
They've only been on three dates, and are part way through the fourth, cooped up in her apartment and cooking together as they've discovered they enjoy doing, when Vision announces, completely out of the blue, "I am capable of having sex."
Wanda blinks, wondering how they managed to arrive on this particular topic. The last thing she had said was can you pass me the salt? Thanks, Viz. "That's… quite the non-sequitur."
Vision just looks at her. "I have read what the media thinks of me, that I am not human and therefore incapable of… pleasing you. I wanted you to know that I am physically able to… perform."
"Okaaay, " Wanda says slowly. She'll address the first part of that later, she thinks. She sets down the mortar and pestle she'd been using to grind the spices for their dish and turns to face him properly. He's not quite looking at her, which is uncharacteristic of him, and she wonders how long he's been thinking about this. "Do you want to have sex with me, though?"
He tilts his head. "I don't understand."
"Just because you can have sex doesn't mean we have to."
"You don't want to have sex with me," Vision says, carefully neutral, not quite a question.
She smiles. "Viz, if you want to have sex with me, I'd love to. But if you don't, not right now, not yet, or never, it won't change how I feel about you. I don't want to be with you because I want to have sex with you - I just want you."
Vision is quiet for a long time, and she watches as he begins to carefully layer the sauce into the pan. They're making chicken marsala, an old favorite of Wanda's, though she prefers it with the Sokovian twist of using different spices. She likes to watch his hands as they move, slow and methodical, always so careful and serious as he is in anything he does. If she was an artist, she thinks, she would draw his hands.
Eventually, he says, "I am not sure if I know whether I want to experience sex or not."
Wanda smiles, something easing inside of her chest. She's so glad, she thinks. She's so glad he feels safe and comfortable enough with her to be honest like this. She says, "Then we'll take it slow. If you decide you want to, then we can certainly try. But if not…" she places her hand on his forearm, and he sets down his sauce spoon and turns to look at her, eyes soft and thoughtful. "If not," she says gently, "you have me. And I'm very happy with what we have already. Besides, a lot of people, human or not, don't want to have sex. It's not unnatural. Relationships don't require sex to work."
He hums. "I am not sure if I would recognize the feeling of wanting sex, if I would enjoy it or not."
Wanda thinks for a moment. "Well, do you like kissing me?" They've done a fair amount of that. Enough to distract her every time she looks at him, in fact.
He smiles. "Very much."
Helpless, she smiles back at him. "It's sort of like that, but more. Wanting to kiss someone so bad, and not just on their lips. Wanting to be naked with someone, to touch them." She touches his face with one hand, and he leans into her palm. Her heart throbs with love. Desire, she thinks, is nothing compared to this. "We have all the time in the world for you to think about it, and I mean it, Viz. I don't care if we ever have sex or not. I want this, what we have, with you."
"I want it, too," Vision says softly, his hands settling on her hips.
Wanda smiles, leaning up and kissing him, chaste and heart-wrenchingly sweet. "Shall we finish dinner then?" she murmurs.
Vision smiles, honest and true. "Certainly."