Love on the Run: With Lips and Tongues, A Conversation

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Title: With Lips and Tongues, A Conversation
Series: Love on the Run
Characters: Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff, some random OCs
Fandom: Marvel Movie Verse -- Post Captain America: Civil War, Pre Infinity War
Summary: Sharon is afraid and brave and Natasha absolutely supports her.
Rating: PG-ish, maybe PG-13
Pairings: Natasha Romanov/Sharon Carter
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Big Damn Table Prompt: Conversation


Thanks Rebbbbb!!!!!

Sharon struggled to process what the world looked from this perspective. It was like staring through a glass-bottomed boat into the ocean except it was the whole world instead of a bit of the sea and there were people instead of fish, moving around in strange schools and groups that, from this high, didn't seem to make sense. In some areas the swarms of people were so thick you couldn't tell which way they were moving. It was just a writhing mass of colors. Typically she wouldn't be looking straight down on the world. It wasn't that she hadn't been up in helicopters, planes, jets, and just about every other propellent known to man and a few that weren't yet known to the general populace, but this was different. This was straight fucking down, clear beneath her feet.

Not something she was used to. Not something she was fond of. The air between her and the people below her was thin and cold, and there was so very much of it. Dizzy from vertigo, she fought to stay upright. Lying face up on the transparent floor miles above the earth would not be better than standing on it. Probably.

Briefly, she reconsidered lying down. Maybe if she wasn’t looking directly at the ground below her, she could pretend the whole thing wasn’t happening and then she could scoot back and forth somehow. She could crab walk, right? Unfortunately, she would never live that down, and it might disqualify her from winning the bet.

Sharon closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was necessary, to her pride anyway, and she could do it. All she had to do was make it across this clear floor and back without losing her shit. hen she'd get what she wanted, prove her point, and rub it in Agent Duchamp’s face.

It was just that the ground was literally miles down. Sharon was so ridiculously high up.

"You weren't supposed to look down. You’re never supposed to look down," Natasha Romanoff's voice was like velvet. Smooth in some directions and prickly in others and moved over her skin like a blanket being pulled away. Sharon shivered. Not that the feeling left her cold. It was more like she felt startled and intrigued... and maybe a little confused. Much like she felt about the woman. Natasha Romanoff was a study in contradictions as far as Sharon could tell. It was hard to say which things were honestly Natasha sometimes because the woman was so accustomed to drawing on whatever person she needed to be for whatever the situation called for in a moment. Sharon wanted to pin the woman down and figure it all out. But she really couldn’t focus on that right now.

"I know I wasn't supposed to look down, but..." Sharon wasn't even sure how to finish that sentence. She hadn't meant to look down, but now she couldn't look away. She needed to focus on the goal. She needed to get across this damned floor.

Sharon was grateful Natasha was the only one down here with her. The others were watching from the security videos because only a couple of people at a time could fit in the corridor that led to the fishbowl. Supposedly the Hulk tested this material she was standing on. It wasn’t just the Hulk either. There had been so many other massive weights and powers thrown at this thing.

Even knowing about the extensive tests, the view was disorienting, concerning, and while many of the crew aboard the jet were reckless, they didn’t have a death wish. There was something deeply unsettling about the sensation of standing on air miles above the earth. Without everyone else piled in here, too, it should have been easier to pretend she didn’t have an audience, but something about the weight of Natasha’s eyes on her didn’t let her forget she wasn’t alone.

Sharon needed a distraction.

Natasha interrupted her rambling thoughts again. "But you did look down and now that you can see that you're basically walking on air and clouds, it’s making you wonder just how sturdy is that glass anyway? Right?" Natasha’s voice was teasing and light. Sharon was not blushing.  

"Pretty much yeah. Remind me again how thick the glass is?"

"I could give you a speech about how it is not technically glass and how it's made and blah blah blah. Well, actually I can’t, but I’m sure Fitz or Simmons or any of the other many, many science geeks on this thing could, but let’s suffice it to say that short of a nuclear blast, that shit isn't cracking and you're not going to fall."

"That is helpful. I think." Still, Sharon felt bolted in place. “Why the hell is this even a thing? Seriously, Natasha, why in the hell is this a thing?”

“Something to do with the new way the camouflage on the ship works, or so I’ve been told. I think it’s here for no other reason than because Fury thought it would look cool.”

Sharon swallowed. “I can do this. I can. So why aren’t my feet moving?”

“Maybe you just need a better incentive.”

“A better incentive than shoving it in Agent Douchenozzle’s face and getting a hundred dollars from him?” Sharon couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice.

“Well,” Natasha’s voice was suddenly low and throaty, no longer teasing and light. Sharon’s belly tightened in response. Something delicious zinged through her, and she thought maybe she could move again. Natasha wasn’t done. “What if I promised to kiss you if you made it across and back?”  

Sharon thought her legs would give out on her, and she stumbled from the force of her surprise, both at the words and at how they made her feel. Yes, Natasha was beautiful and attractive, but she’d never…okay, anyway she finished that thought would be a lie.

“So you would be interested in that, then?” Natasha asked. Now Sharon could see the woman’s face. She honestly hadn’t realized that she’d made it all the way to the other side and was headed back again because she’d been so caught up in what Natasha was saying. But it was a delight to see Natasha’s expression. The woman’s lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes sparked with embers of fire. Sharon was going to kiss that look right of Natasha’s face.

Natasha must’ve seen the look in Sharon’s eyes, because the woman started to back away from her, still with that damn smirk that was driving Sharon to madness. Sharon dashed forward and caught the other woman, one arm around Natasha’s waist and one hand holding her face to pull her in. Sharon didn't kiss Natasha; she brought their lips close together, only millimeters apart. They would be sharing air if Sharon could breathe, but her lungs wouldn't work while she waited. Her chest held frozen just wanting so much for this woman to want to kiss Sharon truly. She absolutely wouldn't force her though. If this kiss happened, it wouldn't be because Sharon closed the gap.

The waiting seemed like an eternity. A million years of waiting and then Natasha lifted on her toes and pressed her plush lips to Sharon's. Sharon's grip on Natasha was fierce and tight, and the softness and gentleness of Natasha's tentative kiss was starkly different, but somehow equally exhilarating. Sharon gasped for breath in relief and happiness, and it must have been what Natasha wanted her to do because suddenly the kiss wasn't a quiet press of lips any longer. Natasha's tongue swept into Sharon's' mouth, and Sharon thought the strangled groan vibrating in her ears might've been her own. She didn't have time to think about it because when she returned the fervor of Natasha's kiss, Natasha whimpered. Sharon had never heard anything more glorious. She hadn't realized that she'd pressed Natasha to the wall, but she was sure as hell thankful for it now that being wedged and propped against it was the only thing holding them both up. They were melting together into the wall, and Sharon didn't think she'd ever been happier in her whole life.

"It dearly pains me to say this but--" Agent Duchamp's voice interrupted them, and Sharon quickly stepped back. She wasn't ashamed of being caught making out in the lower levels of the massive airship, especially not when the woman she was making out with was the hottest, most badass woman Sharon ever met, but she did prefer not to give her coworkers, particularly one as arrogant as Duchamp, a show. The agent blinked a couple of times at them now that he was at the edge of the narrow stairwell. "Oh, hello!" he said looking pleased for a man who'd been proven wrong and now owed someone a hundred dollars. Although ‘lascivious’ might be a better word to describe the glee on the irritating man’s face. If she and Natasha hadn’t been assigned to find out if the man was dirty, there’s no way she’d spend much time with him. So far nothing had turned up other than that he was an aggravating dick, but Sharon was still hoping to catch him in the act of literally anything that would get him fired.

"Told you she'd do it!" Another agent was clanking down the stairs, it took Sharon a moment to place the voice with the distortion of the echo, even though it had to be Richard Pierce. As he came to stand behind Duchamp, he continued, "Are they coming back up now? What's taking so long? I distinctly remember being promised that we'd be going to get food after Sharon did or didn't make it across."

Duchamp quickly answered him, “Oh, you and I are going to dinner. You ladies joining us?”

Pierce’s face was mostly visible behind Duchamp, and it was easy to see his brows knit together in confusion. “What, you guys aren’t hungry?”

“They’re hungry, all right, just not--” Duchamp stopped mid-sentence, and it took Sharon a moment to process that Natasha had a tight grip on his shoulder, right in a pressure point.

“Of course we’re all going to get dinner! Hell, I’m starved. Duchamp is talking out of his ass as usual.” As Natasha spoke, Sharon watched as Natasha’s grip became impossibly tighter. Duchamp winced, and Sharon fought not to laugh. She held the laugh back, but she wasn’t sure she’d managed to keep a straight face.

“Isn’t that right?” Natasha added.

“Yup, just kidding.”

“Okay,” Pierce drew out the word so it sounded like there were seven ‘a’s instead of one. “You people are weird, but I want food. So let’s go.”

Natasha used her grip on Duchamp to spin and push him back towards the stairs. He huffed, but followed after Pierce. Natasha brushed her thumb against Sharon’s bottom lip and grinned like the Cheshire Cat before she turned and followed the other two. Sharon knew the two of them were not done with this conversation.