paisley // you make loving fun.
“Just come in.”
Right. Okay. So, it looked like Paisley was throwing them right into the deep end tonight. Not even a gentle “hey,” or “you got here safe?” — but it wasn’t like he thought she’d forgotten to ask those altogether. Those came moments later; delayed by some sort of rush he had yet to see in her. He took in her mildly frantic behavior with no issues.
“Where’s everyone else?” He asked, looking around the room as if checking for monsters. He knew one lived here, and just prayed she wasn’t around.
She felt him walk by, his feet scraping gently against the hardwood of the room. And that’s when she shut the door, the echo of it’s closure bouncing around the room and right into her chest. “Uhm, I’m not sure— but what does it matter?”
“Do I need to remind you that no one likes me here?”
“Terrie’s the only one who has a key.”
He rolled his eyes at the mention of her name. He could still feel the yolk slipping through his hair, sticking in his hair, and the rage building up in his throat like bile. “And she could come back any time—“
“She won’t. Trust me.”
Peter wasn’t really sure why she seemed so confident in her answer, but he wasn’t going to push her anymore if she believed that so thoroughly. There were better things to worry about. “So, why’d you want me to come over? I thought we were going to that street carnival.”
The center of his attention, who hadn’t left her spot near the door, had found herself literally twiddling her thumbs. “Uhm, well I thought we might as well just stay in? It’s probably crazy outside with the games still in full swing.”
“Do you not want to go?”
“Honestly? Tonight — not really. I kind of just want to stay in here — with you.”
Her words were like gunshots. The last two shots punctured him like a real bullet, square in the chest and he felt his breathing falter for the two words that probably meant nothing. “Hm, right.”
She tried to continue as she moved a little closer. “You can watch a movie? I can play with your hair while you tell me what’s happening.”
“That does sound tempting, but don’t you want to do something we can’t do back in New York?”
“You want me to play with your hair back home?”
“If you’re offering?”
“I’ll always offer it to you.” She went to snake her hands around his waist, content when she could feel the cotton of his shirt in her hands. Paisley breathed in the smell of tobacco and mint from him, and she was positive that there would never be anything that made her feel calmer. “I just want to spend time with you — no stressing about anything — and enjoy one of our last nights here without worrying about something stopping us.”
“Stopping us from what?”
Paisley’s weight shifted, her head resting against his chest as she sighed. “I don’t know. We’ve never got to spend a night here — alone. Not having to worry about someone else looking at us like we’re crazy or—”
“Or like we aren’t supposed to work?”
“I was just going to say stupid, but that works too.”
He hummed, like it was a joke. She liked the way it rumbled against his chest.
He held her a little tighter. She didn’t falter.
“Paisley,” he breathed against her right side. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, bracing herself for what was next. His lips moved over her’s in the sweetest caress, and Paisley let out the breath she was holding in.
This was familiar; this was good.
This was what she had wanted.
His hands moved to cup the sides of her face and she felt the twitch of his lips turning upwards. His touch was gentle. It was always gentle. She didn’t know why she was worrying so much. Paisley’s breath jumped, and Peter held back for a second to make sure he wasn’t stepping over any boundaries. His hand felt cool on her skin. They were always so warm. A shiver went up the back of her spine. The spark felt amazing, just because there to be someone who she could be with again. She could hear his breathing, shallow and close to her ear, as he creeped closer to her, but didn’t feel any of the knots in her stomach that would normally come with someone else in a situation like this.
“Will you jump for me?” He whispered against her ear. She wanted to ask how high.
Without needing to think any farther, his hands left their places and found a new home against her thighs, now hitched against his waist. As she felt the two of them moving, his lips worked with hers once more — until they didn’t. Like a roller coaster, her stomach dropped and she felt them move against the plushness of the bed.
Paisley’s hands came up, finding their places slowly on either side of his face. The sideburns he sported tickled her skin and she was smiling into the kiss he broke a second later. His hands moved to hold himself up on either side of her head as he took her in. Peter had hold back a chuckle by how she looked. He could have looked at her like this forever. The way her skin reflected off the moonlight was almost out of some movie, and he couldn’t take it any longer as he plunged his lips on her again. His arms gave out from under him, and Paisley rolled with him as she came to lay on top of him.
She knew where this was headed.
She didn’t need to think about it.
Paisley needed to forget what this was if she wanted it to continue.
And then Peter stopped.
“Hey, are you sure?” His eyes moved to take in all of her features, and doing so provided a little insight to the mixed bag she was feeling. A hand cupped her cheek as some sort of comfort, and while she didn’t flinch, Peter could see the hunched shoulders and bitten lip. He had seen it minutes ago, even when she seemed so confident in her answers. “I’m not going to just….”
Her shoulders slacked.“You’re asking me?”
He chuckled. “Of course.” In the moment, something settled in his stomach that didn’t feel anything like the desire coursing through his veins. He passed it off as a fluke, something she’s saying to rile him up a little more, before laughing it off against the skin of her neck. “You’re sure?”
Peter could hear her breathing hitch for a few moments as she caught her breathing.
Again, something felt wrong. Like, it was a movie in slow motion and he was supposed to see something he couldn’t. Peter couldn’t see what it was though, even if he strained. So, he chalked it up to nerves.
He was going to count to five, and if she didn’t reply — then he needed to stop.
One. Two.
She started to breathe again.
Three.
“Peter—”
Four.
“—Keep going.”
“Gladly.”
———
In the quiet that afterwords brought, Paisley found herself drawing shapes on his chest from the comfort of the disheveled bed. With sheets wrapped around her legs and his, neither felt the urgency to move from their position. Besides, Peter found the motions she made comforting. She seemed to be zoned out in her own world, and he didn’t have the heart to take her away from whatever she was thinking about. Her fingers changed into slight tapping, rhythmically on his chest. When he peered down to glance at her, she still looked to be in her own world but there was somehow an invitation to be extended to him.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked before peppering the crown of her head with a kiss or two.
She giggled slightly, unprepared for the affection and her tapping faltered. “Honestly, I’m trying to piece together what you look like.”
“And what exactly does that look like?”
“Well, it’s stupid.” She sighed. “I don’t even know if my memory of him is right.”
“It can’t be that bad.” Peter was sure he had heard far worse assumptions of his appearance before, than whatever someone who was actually into him could come up with. She wasn’t budging, though. He tried, begging a little more. “Paisley, come on.”
“Uhm, Burt Reynolds?”
The image hit him square in the chest. “I wish.” Peter’s laugh reverberated against Paisley, and she felt like she just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. She felt like she might as his arm moved to snake around her a little bit tighter, pressing her just a little closer. He sounded wistful as he added, “I’m a bit blonder than him.”
“How blonde are we talking?” She felt like she remembered him being tall, dark, and handsome when she used to watch movies with him in it. (Sunday Mornings with her mother were always time for a Burt Reynolds movie, and he’d ride in on horses with that dark hair of his). However, life and freshman psychology courses had proven just how badly she was unable to trust her old vision. She just needed to shut herself up.
Peter was gracious enough to do it for her. “‘Mora said I had sandy locks once, when she was bailing me out of jail.”
“You went to jail?”
“For a night!” He laughed and Paisley could feel the laughter heaving with his chest. Her head moved with him. “Rocket got into a fight and I tried to stop it, but that’s when the cops showed up and well — they thought I was part of it.”
“Were charges ever pressed?”
“No, the kid was just as drunk as we were; plus, he started it.” “And even if it he had, I’m pretty good friends with a law student. Matt would have taken care of me.”
“Matt sounds like a good friend — so long as it was free of charge.”
“Oh, he’s big into pro-bono.”
“Well obviously. Who doesn’t like Bono?”
His deep laugh rumbled against her cheek, which was still pressed to the chest that rose and fell quicker than normal. Paisley felt something warm blossom in her heart. The sound was absolutely gorgeous, and it was better knowing that she’d been able to do that to him with such a stupid joke. As he finally settled once more, taking that final breath and letting out a little “woo”, she still couldn’t believe she was here — like this — and enjoying the feeling of his little chest hairs tickling her face as they laid there. She wanted to remember this forever.
The door opened from the other room, and Paisley froze. Peter could see the panic in her expression as she scrambled off the bed and hit the floor with a thud. He moved to help her up, but she was already standing up before he could get to her. “She’s not supposed to be home yet!” She whispered.
Peter was pretty sure that Terrie never told her when she was going to be back, but that seemed like a Terrie thing to do anyways.
“Will you light a candle?” Paisley was throwing on what she was pretty sure was a dress from the ground. Peter realized it was his shirt before she did. Neither said anything as she continued to move around and search for anything amiss with her hands. There was a knocked over suitcase, and she nearly tripped over what she assumed was Peter’s shoes.
From the other side of the room, the man with the shoes did as she asked; grabbing the lighter from her bedside table and moving to put his hand into the glass jar where he could find the wick. Lilac Sands was the official name, but it sure smelled nothing like what he would find on a beach. And taking a big whiff of it, he couldn’t figure out who hated themselves more, because nobody should have that sweet of a candle in their vicinity. It was probably a Terrie pick.
As footsteps drew nearer, Paisley launched herself out of the room and shut the door swiftly behind her. She went to feel her way along the wall, taking in the few deep breaths she needed to regain her composure. With twenty different reasons to make sure Terrie didn’t go into her room, Paisley could only continue to list them off before she felt a solid force bump against her.
“Woah, Pai. Are you alright?”
Steve’s familiar hands grabbed either of her shoulders, holding her in place and keeping her steady.
“Steve,” she breathed. “It’s just you.”
Something turned in the pit of his stomach; why did she sound so relieved saying that? “Yeah, it’s just me…” And he thought he told Terrie to text her that he was coming over. His mind went to taking in everything about the room — was there something amiss? Was someone here and trying to hurt her? He listened for Lucky’s bark from the other room, heard nothing, and took a deep breath. Okay. He was just being paranoid. And then he noticed her attire. “So, what exactly are you wearing?”
“Uhm,” she let her hands smooth out the fabric and feel as it ended right around her mid-thigh. “Just some sleeping clothes. What are you doing here?”
Right. He didn’t remember her having a Young Americans tour shirt. Along with her disheveled look, he didn’t know if he could chalk everything up to sleep alone. “Oh, uhm, I was just dropping a few things off that Terrie asked me to get.”
“Right.”
The room shifted, almost like the lights had gone out.
“You two still aren’t talking?”
“After she egged my—” Paisley caught herself. Or maybe the word caught itself in her throat, like it was trying to save her. “—Peter? No. Not until she apologizes for it.”
Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to have this fight with her while their vacation was ending. Could they not save this for New York? “She’s just trying to be a good friend.”
“Well, you can’t be a good friend if you egg your best friend’s—” And there she went again. Maybe it was the afterglow or something else in her brain that made her sound like an idiot. Because that’s what she would be if she had kept going.
“….So, he’s your—”
A thud came from her room like a saving grace, if it hadn’t been for what she was sure was the cause. Her heartbeat quickened, but not in any sort of good way. Paisley quickly moved to cover it. “God, Lucky probably hit something with his tail.”
“Here, let me help you clean it up.”
She shot back. “No, it’s alright.”
Steve had to settle himself, because he couldn’t believe how thick-headed she could be sometime. “It sounded like glass; I’m not going to have you hurting yourself.”
“Well it’s a good thing I won’t.” She bit back, the vile in her voice cutting at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Paisley.”
“Forget it, seriously.”
The door opened from behind her and Peter stuck his head out. “She’s got me.”
Paisley couldn’t see the gears turning in Steve’s head as he took the scene in front of him. She definitely couldn’t see the blush rising in his cheeks when he put it together and found that Peter was missing a shirt and Paisley had found one suspiciously close to his size.
“Right.”
His footsteps started to move away, but Paisley stopped him as she tried walking towards him and reaching her arm out. She just grazed his side when he turned back to her, and found that the open door behind her had shut. At least Peter could give them a little privacy.
She was rushing to say something, anything that might keep this from getting out. “Please don’t tell anyone else. You weren’t supposed to find out so fast.”
And Steve didn’t know why that statement hurt. He wanted to say it was that she didn’t trust him enough to talk about something so personal, but he wasn’t going to rush to conclusions either. “You were just going to go one without telling anyone about this?”
“Well, hearing how you reacted makes me feel good about my choice.”
“And how was I supposed to react?” He pressed a hand against his forehead in some attempt to stop the headache coming on.
“Like you were happy I was trying again.”
She heard him let out a sigh he had been holding in for a long time. “Paisley.”
“No—”
“Paisley. It’s not that I’m not happy that you’re moving on, but—”
“But it’s him,” her bitter tone shone through. She scoffed. “Of course.”
“Why not Tony? Or someone we know a little better.” He probably wouldn’t have been that happy if it was Tony either, but at least there was something a little closer. Someone who knew it all; who could tell her signs.
“I didn’t know you were trying to control me.” She fought. Paisley was crossing her hands over her chest as she felt that horrible weight starting to weigh her down. Like she was sinking into the ground. She needed to get out. “Would you have liked to have done it? You already failed me once, but here’s hoping for another chance.”
“I’m not.” He cautioned. “We’re all just worried about you.”
“That’s sweet, really. But I am an adult and can take care of myself and choose guys that I like without having to worry about them.”
“And what happens when one of you is done with this?”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Then I tell him I need space.” Her voice fell an octave as she continued, “But I don’t see that happening any time soon, so stop insinuating that it will. And maybe he’ll do it, but then I’ll just have to go on.”
“Paisley, are you sure about this?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be? Do you seriously have such little faith in me? “ She broke. “It’s a relationship, Steve.” It was supposed to be a two-way streak. There was supposed to be communication and understanding, and some sense of shared interests. Was Steve the blind one? Did he not see any of it?
“I know, bu—”
“But nothing.” She sighed. “Do me a favor and get out of my romantic life. I’m begging you to just let me be. And Terrie and Bucky, too. Just do me a favor and never ask me about my romantic life again.”
“You’re being crazy,” he tried.
She felt like she was going to push him. He probably deserved a good push out of the room.“And what? Don’t you want to respect your friends wishes?”
“Of course I do; as long as they’re coming from a rational place.”
Wrong move, Rogers. Very wrong move. “What about me isn’t rational?”
“Paisley,” he cautioned. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Peter on the other side of the wall. “You know why I’m questioning you. If it was six months ago—”
“But it’s not. It’s now, and you have to believe me when I say I’m fine.”
“I can’t.”
“Then get out.”
“You know I’m right, Pai.”
“Please, get the fuck out of here.”
“Right.”
And he didn’t say anything else as the door opened and shut, slamming closed and sending a shiver up Paisley’s spine. Why did he need to do that? Why did he need to do any of this?
Her bedroom door opened, and she could hear Peter’s careful footsteps creeping up on her. His hands came to hold her from behind. God, she would normally love it with unadulterated admiration, but suddenly everything was feeling like it was suffocating her.
She pushed him away. “I just need a little space, Peter.”
He watched her, moving a few feet away and ending whatever cloud of bliss they had found themselves in. That feeling that had been caught in his throat for hours was suddenly thrown down, hitting him somewhere in his lungs and exploding on impact. “Right, okay.”
“He’s such a righteous—”
“He’s your friend.” Peter sounded exhausted.
Paisley didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “Yeah, and so was Terrie. We see how logical she is.”