top gun: maverick | hangman/phoenix | drabble
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“Lay here with me?”
Jake’s voice is quieter than Natasha thinks she’s ever heard it. He’s pressed promises right into her skin with little more than a whisper, a sigh, a breath. Soft enough that she has to listen for them, even with their bodies tangled together.
This, though — this is different.
There’s space between them — her hand curled over the doorknob as she goes to leave, his body on the far side of his mattress — and his voice just barely carries across the distance. Natasha doesn’t think he’s ever been afraid, but uncertain?
Certainly.
She lets him linger in that for a long moment. Relishes the way he watches her, proud that he can’t read her next move. In the air, sure — bastard’s always been too good at that. But here, behind closed doors, she’s the one keeping her intentions guarded.
She does slip back into bed, but stays dressed, jeans uncomfortable against her skin. Despite the way Jake’s hips are underneath the sheet, she lays on top of his blankets on her back. Keeps her eyes on the ceiling as she says, “Just until you fall asleep.”
Natasha hears Jake’s soft hum in reply, lazy in the way it rolls from his chest to an exhale against his pillowcase, but she feels the way his body tenses, too. “S’fine,” he says. “Won’t take long.”
At that, Natasha’s head rolls to the side so she can look at him. He cracks one eye open and quirks his brow, watching her. Waiting for her reply.
Fuck, it feels good to be in control.
“Good,” she finally says, fingers folding together over her stomach. “This won’t count as me staying the night, then.”
Jake’s eye closes again, but the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Don’t worry, Phoenix,” he murmurs. “I know better than to ask for the impossible.”
“Afraid of a challenge?”
(He’s never been afraid.)
“Just don’t wanna waste my time on a fight I don’t think I’ll win.”
(Uncertain.)