There was no denying that they had grown close over the past few months. Maybe it was the time spent with each other, or the way they caught each other’s gaze across the board room, or it could have been how she fit so easily beside him on the couch.
The tension in the air was becoming unbearable, but if you asked him, the last straw was when she brushed her hands across his shoulder as she walked by. He’d turned to find her giving him this look, the one that told him that she knew what he was thinking.
The next thing he realized, he had her pressed against the glass, a sharp intake of breath at the cold. Wanda pulled him down to her, fingers in his hair while his own hands explored the small of her back.
Wanda couldn’t help herself, she was drawn towards touch. Maybe it was filling a void left by losing her parents so young, maybe because her magic ended up so personal, she wanted to deepen that connection with touch. Whatever it was, it had clearly intensified with Bucky and their connection.
She could feel it, too. The shift in the air, the tension about to snap. The look they shared felt like it shot right through her, like they finally had a solid hold on one another, more than the shared looks and arms and legs pressed up beside one another.
Her hands took a physical grip with her hand curled in his hair, a soft sigh escaping her as her back arched to give his hands access to whatever part of her he wanted to explore. Her lips pressed into his, savoring the feel of him pressed so close to her. “Bucky,” she whimpered, pressing her forehead against his.
