Chapter Text
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They don’t talk about it. They don’t talk it down, don’t talk it to pieces, don’t talk about what it means or how it will change things. They don’t feel the need to.
Because they both know. And to Natasha - in all her years of existence, of spying all around the globe, of gathering information about everyone and everything - knowledge has never felt more precious.
They just exist.
After.
In the kitchen.
Never parting.
Natasha has never experienced something like this, something she could’ve called love. Hasn’t even come close to it. But she doesn’t think it’s bad because Wanda is right here, with her. And how could she be scared when Wanda’s fingers intertwine with hers, when blue meets blue, when still swollen lips curl into a smile, telling her it’s okay, you’re not alone and you’re safe.
God.
Wanda looks breathtaking like this. Her hair is tousled, and she’s wearing old sweatpants with an oversized sweatshirt she must’ve stolen from her dresser but Natasha can’t remember her ever looking more stunning.
She pulls herself a little closer and hides her face in the crook of Wanda’s neck, just breathing her in. She wraps her arms around the younger woman’s middle when her emotions threaten to overwhelm her, anchoring herself with Wanda’s warmth and the smell of her skin.
Wanda’s only response is a soft hum. Her hands tangle in Natasha’s hair as she holds her close. She leaves a small kiss on Natasha’s shoulder, telling her once more that it’s okay. She’s feeling the same. It’s real. It’s safe.
And that’s how it is. It is real and it is safe.
Time passes. Natasha doesn’t know how much and she doesn’t care.
But it’s her own stomach’s rumbling that gets both women’s attention.
“Someone’s hungry,” Wanda notes with a low chuckle and a warm smile as Natasha pulls back. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know,” Wanda replies, allowing her thumb to ghost over Natasha’s cheek, barely touching, “but I want to.”
Natasha’s heart flutters. She immediately misses her warmth when Wanda lets her go to walk to the fridge. It feels a little like the radical change of temperature when the sun disappears behind clouds on a summer day - it doesn’t change the mood, but something is missing.
“There are some leftovers from dinner. Laura made sure to save them for us.”
Natasha doesn’t say anything back. She doesn’t think words make sense now in this world where she just got to kiss the this wonderful woman. The same woman who’s her best friend. Her best friend who is also feeling the same. It’s just... unreal.
Yeah, that’s it. It feels unreal. Too good to be true.
Natasha touches her own lips, the kisses they’ve traded still present with a tingling sensation on bruised lips.
She watches Wanda moving around, her motions flawless and routined. And her legs move too, all on their own, as if she’s gravitating towards the younger woman like a magnet.
She doesn’t bother to ask. No, she pulls Wanda close by her hips and silences a surprised question with her lips on Wanda’s, needing to feel her, the taste her, to reassure herself of this with every sense.
“What about- dinner? Aren’t- you- hungry?” Wanda asks between soft kisses that Natasha leaves on her lips before trailing them down the younger woman’s neck.
Natasha pauses, takes a breath and then straightens back up. She looks into Wanda’s eyes for a moment, checking if it’s okay what she’s doing, that they’re still on the same page.
Wanda’s eyes are back to their original blue color but in the dim light of the kitchen it looks like they’re holding the night sky full of stars.
Wanda loops her arms around Natasha’s neck and grins. “Don’t get me wrong, I really like what you’re doing, but you’ll starve if you keep distracting me.”
“I don’t care.”
Wanda laughs quietly. “But I do.”
Natasha pouts. She doesn’t usually do that, like ever, but with Wanda she does a lot of things she has never done before, and something tells her there’ll be a lot of firsts to come.
“Just a minute. Let me have this, I...” She loses what she wanted to say for a second when Wanda’s lips curl into a crooked smile. “I wanted that for so long.”
The admission falls from her lips all too easily, considering she hadn’t known for the longest time what that warm feeling in her chest means and then had spent a good amount of time acting as if she didn’t know.
Wanda bites her bottom lip and chuckles. “Me too.”
“Yeah?”
Instead of a reply Wanda rolls her eyes, an unspoken duh, you’ve been in my head passing between them.
Natasha scoots her fingers into Wanda’s hair, and watches how her favorite pair of eyes flutter close.
Physical boundaries had never really belonged between them since they started speaking many weeks before. All too soon cuddles and hugs had become as natural as breathing, small touches had turned into their way of communicating all the things they couldn’t say out loud. She hopes that it won’t ever go away.
Still, Natasha revels in the feeling of Wanda’s skin under her fingertips as she ghost her hand to the back of Wanda’s neck, her thumb caressing the younger woman’s jaw. Just because she’s allowed to.
She leans in then to kiss her slowly, eyes closing only a split second before her lips meet Wanda’s.
It’s a soft kiss, barely there.
Then it’s not anymore because Wanda kisses her back, tugging Natasha closer by her hips until their bodies are pressed together.
Wanda’s fingers sneak under her hoodie just enough so her thumb ghosts over a tiny patch of Natasha’s skin. It’s nothing and yet it’s enough to send a buzz through her body with every motion, rising her heart rate with each stroke. Back and forth, back and forth…
Her touch, her taste... Natasha’s head feels dizzy all too soon.
She breaks away first to catch her breath, leaning her forehead against Wanda’s.
Wanda keeps her hands where they are, keeps running her thumb over her skin, making Natasha’s heart flutter with each stroke.
Natasha curses softy in Russian, trying to get her body under control. “You’re...”
Everything? The word doesn’t come close to that feeling in her chest.
“I’m?”
Words are ghosting through her head, many of them, but not two in the same language. Natasha sighs in defeat.
Wanda chuckles again, lower this time. “I think you need some food.”
Natasha reluctantly pulls back, but not without stealing another tiny kiss from Wanda’s lips.
“Come sit here, grumpy,” Wanda says, patting the kitchen counter right beside the stove.
Natasha follows suit and revels in the feeling of Wanda leaning against her thigh as she stirs something that looks a lot like Laura’s famous Mac’n’Cheese. Natasha’s favorite.
She watches as her own fingers tangle in the soft material of Wanda’s shirt, feeling the need to...
Natasha doesn’t know what need it is. It’s just there, so she gives in to it and allows her fingers to do as they please.
If Wanda notices, she doesn’t show.
It’s silent for the next minutes. The only sounds to be heard are the spoon that’s stirring Natasha’s food from time to time, and the clock‘s soft ticking.
Natasha’s head is unusually quiet too. She remembers how she got here, what happened before, but the thoughts don’t haunt her, don’t chase her down into the dark spiral she knows so well by now that she almost goes down willingly.
Instead, there’s just Wanda. The little frown on her forehead, a sign of concentration. The hint of a smile on her soft, full lips. The glint in her eyes, every time the brunette steals a glance at Natasha.
She watches in awe now that she’s finally allowed to stare without having to hide away.
Wanda’s hand on her thigh is what pulls her out of her marveling stare. “It’s done. Want to go sit on the couch?“
Natasha slips down from the counter and reluctantly lets go of Wanda’s shirt. She takes the small offered bowl of deliciously smelling leftovers from her and follows her to the couch.
They sit on opposite ends of the couch, but since it’s not that big, their feet and knees touch easily. It’s not quite what Natasha craves but it’s something.
She can feel Wanda’s eyes on her while she eats, and she tries hard not to blush.
It feels new to have someone look at her like that, like she’s crossed an invisible line into foreign territory where Natasha neither knows the law nor the language. A situation she has never found herself in before, she must confess.
“What?“ She asks finally.
“Nothing.”
Natasha leans over to the small coffee table and sets down her bowl, freeing her hand so she can reach out for Wanda.
Wanda scoots a little closer and takes Natasha’s unharmed hand into both of her own. “I’m just happy to be here with you,” she admits.
“Me too.”
“I got scared when Laura told me Clint was taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think I would be scared for someone else in my life besides my brother. It was never something I considered for me to have.”
“Because you like women?” Natasha probes gently, careful not to use any label.
She knows how strictly conservative Sokovia was about homosexuality and different religious beliefs, she can only imagine how hard it must’ve been to be anything but heterosexual in a country like that.
She allows Wanda to toy with her fingers like she has done the day before because it seems to bring the woman some sort of comfort while she waits for Wanda to reply.
Wanda sighs after a little while. “That too. I’m just not... I never had a relationship. That man you saw was my only...” Wanda shudders and bends Natasha’s fingers a little harder. “And I didn’t want it because I always had other things to worry about. So I didn’t even bother to think about stuff like it. Or it scared me, I don’t know.”
Natasha’s heart rages with anger at the thought of what that man did. All of her wants to rip that man’s heart out, slow and painful.
“He’s dead, you know?”
Natasha frowns.
“That man. Strucker killed him with a shot in the head.”
“I would’ve done it if he didn’t. Only much more painful.”
Wanda actually lets out a chuckle. “I would not have let you do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re good.”
“It’s sweet that you think so.”
Wanda pulls herself a little closer and fiddles with Natasha’s fingers before shyly meeting Natasha’s eyes. “Can we take this slow? I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t,” Natasha says firmly, her heart speeding up at the thought of a future. “And of course.”
“Can we... keep it between us for a little while? I just... it’s new to me. I don’t want people sticking their noses into our stuff just yet.”
Our stuff. slow echoes through Natasha’s thoughts like a mantra when she feels Wanda’s heartbeat against her.
But soon Nate lets out a little whine upstairs and it will only take a few more minutes until he’ll start crying loud enough for Laura or Clint to wake up.
Is it that late already? Or better early?
“We should move somewhere more private,” she breathes against Wanda’s lips, willing herself to stop kissing the brunette in her lap for a moment.
Wanda frowns. “Why?”
“Nate. Someone will be up soon.”
“It’s really scary what you can hear.”
Natasha shrugs and stares up at Wanda. Her long hair is falling down her shoulders, framing her tinted cheeks. Her lips look bruised, her eyes a dark shade somewhere between black and blue.
Slow. A chuckle falls from her lips before she can stop it. God, it’s going to be hard.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” Wanda orders and pokes Natasha’s side.
She shifts immediately, trying to escape it. “Hey, you’re cheating!”
Wanda does it again and Natasha gives in.
“I’m just... happy.”
Wanda’s expression softens. “Me too. Come on, let’s go to bed. You need some rest.”
...