infinite1ups | Dinner (@americanass)

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Dinner (@americanass)

It was a good thing Claire didn't have any work to do that was terribly important, because she'd spent most of the day distracted thinking about the night before. Confessing her feelings for Steve had been on her mind for weeks, and she could never figure out the right time to go there. Maybe it had been her vulnerability after the nightmare, maybe not, but last night apparently was the time. Whether it was the right time, she still wasn't sure.

Neither could she gauge how Steve seemed to feel about the whole thing, as she hadn't had much opportunity to see him, much less talk to him. They both seemed to be busy, though she hadn't forgotten his offer of dinner that night. Just dinner, no mention of a date, not that she'd really expected that. They both needed time to sort this out, maybe sitting down to talk over dinner would help, especially after each took their time to think it over privately that day. She imagined he was thinking it over now, even if he hadn't considered it before.

As the afternoon inched closer to evening, she considered dinner plans. Claire knew her impulsive nature was influencing her now, but she couldn't help wanting to do something nice. Not a date. She wasn't going to go all out, just prepare a little something for the two of them. It was easy enough see him in passing, to request that he meet her in the dining room around six. And then she got to work.

Claire held herself to some semblance of playing it cool, of not trying to prepare anything too extravagant or that might give the impression that it was a date. No, it was just dinner. A simple pasta dish, a salad. No wine, that would... imply things, and it wouldn't do either of them much good anyway. At least, she thought she recalled that Steve's alcohol tolerance was on a level with hers.

Once the table was set, all she had left do was, well. Wait. He'd probably be on time, she guessed, but she was growing too nervous to check the time. Of course he'd show up, right?

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“Good. It wasn’t up for negotiation.” Steve, as a rule, didn’t negotiate. He was the sort of man who decided on something and did exactly that, didn’t accept argument in most things. In this. Because it was fair, and right, and if he couldn’t look after her in any way but cleaning up and being careful with her heart, he was sure as hell going to be doing that much.

He smiled though, the atmosphere between them staying playful. It was nice, to just be relaxed, to be at ease with someone. Steve had always had that with Claire, but it sat differently now that things had shifted.

More like contentment now.

And when was the last time he’d felt that? He didn’t know that he ever had. Didn’t know that he even fully recognized it. But if he had to call the warm, comfortable feeling he had in her company, just doing the same things they’d always done but with more weight in the simple activity, contentment was the name he’d give it.

Once they were finished eating, he rose from the table, clearing things away before she had a chance to object, going right to do the washing up. Again, before there was time to protest. The sooner they got the mundane out of the way, after all, the sooner they could get on to exploring the new facets to their relationship.

There were still a lot of things to figure out, how it would all look as a part of their professional lives for one, but none of it so urgent it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. And Steve fully intended on taking up the offer to stay if it came again.

She did open her mouth to protest when he started clearing away the dishes, but decided against it. There would no doubt be plenty of times when she might be able to make a case for negotiation, but this wasn't one of them. He could do the dishes.

Instead, Claire simply got up from the table and headed to the kitchen with him. She leaned in the door frame, watching Steve with a smile.

"Fine, but that means I get to supervise." Her tone still held that playfulness, green eyes bright with mischief. "I don't get to be in charge often; I promise I won't abuse my newly claimed authority."

She loved this lighter side of him, just as much as she'd loved getting to know him more seriously as they'd been working together. As they'd gotten closer, she'd become more comfortable playing around and joking when appropriate. Now it was fun to be downright flirtatious.

"Oh, you think you've got authority here?" Steve couldn't help but laugh. She did, of course, have all the authority if that was what would make her comfortable, if that was what would mean they could keep moving forward. He might not accept arguments, but there was no question that he would know perfectly when to slow down and let her take the lead.

Or rather that he'd take the hints that would need to be right under his nose.

But he was a stubborn man who was used to getting his way. Used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. He couldn't say for sure whether that would translate into his personal life as well, not having much in the way of relationships since having settled into the leadership role, but he fully expected he'd be his same, bossy self with her as he always was.

At least Claire would be used to that already. He didn't feel like anything needed to change on that front. The only thing that would was that now that they'd discussed it, he was going to be free to slip his arms around her, to kiss her, to take her back behind closed doors and just see where things went.

Just as soon as he'd cleaned up.

Claire was generally pretty good at following orders, at least with Steve. He didn't get upset when she questioned things. Her questioning wasn't purely to be contrary, it was critical thinking, wanting to understand how things worked and why certain things were done.

Professionally, she could trust his judgment and follow him, but she also wasn't afraid to offer suggestions and perspective of her own. In their personal lives, maybe she did want to take a little more control. To level the playing field, so to speak.

While he always treated her as an equal, she wanted to avoid the appearance of a power imbalance in their relationship outside of work. If this were to ever go public, she knew how it might look to some people. The last thing she wanted was for any of it to reflect on them negatively, especially Steve.

"Mmhmm, I think I do," Claire returned, grinning. She crossed the room, popping herself up to sit on the counter beside the sink. At this height, she was nearly face to face with him. A literal leveling of the field.

"Looks to me like you're doing a fine job, though. I think it'll pass inspection." Try as she might to sound stern, she couldn't stop smiling.

He noticed how sitting on the counter brought her closer to his height, took that as the symbol it was, and couldn’t help smiling at her. The last thing he wanted was any feeling that he was coercing her into wanting him, using any position of leadership he had to make her decision for her, and the gesture was reassurance he didn’t realize he needed.

“I had my rounds on KP. I know what I’m doing.” In fact, he was such a terrible cook that all he’d been allowed to do was the washing up. Steve’s weight shifted slightly, and he impulsively leaned in to brush his lips against hers.

The smile she had turned on him was too much. It was that bright, adoring look that had sparked too many fantasies since he’s known her. Ones he’d either tried to brush aside or kept to his most private moments. That smile did things to him. And now? He didn’t have to turn the feelings away.

He could be impulsive and affectionate and more right back at her.

She had almost always smiled at him like that, out of genuine admiration and maybe a little awe. It wasn't until later that those feelings had deepened into deep affection and adoration. When it was necessary for her to show more tact, she was of course able to do so. More private moments, when it was just the two of them? The hearteyes were in full effect.

"Not until after cleaning up, huh?" But clearly she didn't mind disobeying a command now and then. Especially when it meant Steve kissed her like that. Claire just blushed, all of her mock-authority quickly melting away.

“You already know too well that I like bending the rules in the right circumstances," she pointed out with a giggle. And this was, arguably, the best circumstance.

Claire gently ran the backs of her fingers down his forearm. Just to touch him. If he was breaking the rules, then so could she.

"Some rules are worth breaking." Simple as that, really. And now that he could kiss her, he wanted to do it all the time. The stubborn holding out for something they didn't really need to hold out for in the first place wasn't worth resisting the urge for. Sensibilities he no longer held onto weren't worth denying himself for when what he wanted was right there, was available, and most importantly was alright for him to have.

Because Steve so often denied himself everything. Allowing himself something he wanted was a rare thing.

He wanted Claire too much, even after a day apart and in serious thought about what he wanted and his intentions, to keep denying the desire.

"Besides. I think I said after dinner." He smiled as he moved, not brushing her touch from his arm, not pulling away but rather moving close to her, his hands landing on the counter on either side of her. "Dinner's over."

And just like that, Steve was crowding up to her at the counter, smooth as can be. Claire's smile renewed, knees parting to allow him to settle between them. She'd been wanting this all day, to feel him close to her again, to touch him.

To kiss him.

And he was right, of course. Dinner was over now. Which meant they didn't have to wait anymore. They'd waited long enough, hadn't they?

From her level position on the counter, it was all too easy for her to take the initiative. She ran her hands up his arms, one going higher to cup his cheek as she leaned in to brush against his lips with her own. Soft at first, before she kissed him properly.

It felt significant to Claire, in a way, that she was taking the lead as they moved into the next phase of their relationship. Beyond doubt, this was what she wanted, more than anything. She wanted to make sure Steve knew that, and some things were easier to say with actions than with words.

It wasn’t only her it felt significant to. Steve would always harbor doubts and worries about pressuring her into what he wanted, knew he could be unyielding and knew he had her respect. Not a great combination on a personal level between people who worked together, he thought. But every time she made it clear to him it was what she wanted, every time she took the initiative or a step, it reassured him. He needed that even if he wouldn't ever admit he did, or didn't even think that he did in the first place.

He leaned toward her to meet her kiss, let himself sink into it despite the fact that his hands were still damp and there were still a few thinks that needed tidying away. Kissing her, letting his lips move gently but insistently against hers, was much more appealing.

Until it seemed like what naturally came next was for his damp hands to leave the counter and settle on her hips instead. Then, Steve realized that the kitchen counter wasn't the place to get carried away. Not when anyone else could come by at any moment. That didn't stop him from letting his hands bunch in her clothes, from tugging so she was perched a little closer to the edge of the counter and a little closer to him. It didn't make him pull away, though he did end up smiling against her lips.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere," he suggested. And kissed her all over again instead of doing anything to take it anywhere.

She was so glad to be kissing him again that she didn't give a damn about the few remaining dishes. Or his wet hands, for that matter. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, lips parting to kiss him more deeply, absolutely melting into it.

As he tugged her forward, Claire obliged, sliding to the edge of the counter. A leg wrapped around his waist, a sure sign that he was exactly where she wanted him to be. She knew they should be more careful, more discreet, but damn it, she'd waited all day for this.

Still, Steve was right when he suggested relocating to elsewhere. Once they moved, they truly wouldn't have to wait any longer.

"My bedroom?" Claire offered, not caring if she sounded too eager. They were far beyond trying to play coy and beat around the bush. She added with a giggle, "Or yours. I'm not picky."

Steve chuckled softly. Not picky, she said, but no doubt she had a preference all the same. “You’ll probably be more comfortable in yours.”

His was closer, though, technically, if not by more than a few steps, and maybe the option to just leave if she needed to would be appealing, but everything else about the situation was new, a little familiarity might be nice, and the only person’s comfort he was worried about was hers. Probably a lot more so than he needed to be. And that would calm, he thought, sooner or later. As they got more comfortable with being more than everything they’d already been to each other.

Did any of that really matter when he trusted her to make her own choices or when he just wanted to get her somewhere private so they could pick right up where they left off that morning?

Sneaking another quick, thorough kiss, he stepped back just enough to help her down off the counter, the difference in height so much more evident when she was standing beside him, but the only thing it meant was that it was uncomfortable for Steve to just lean down and kiss her all over again and take her to whatever bed they wound up in.

“But I’m closer,” he pointed out, as if those few steps made a significant difference. It made enough, in the moment, that unless she showed any hesitation he’d take her there.

The room didn't matter so much. Sure, they should be somewhere private, but that was about the only criteria she truly cared about, so long as she'd be alone with Steve. But he did bring up a good point.

His was closer. Claire hadn't been in his room much, since usually their late night talks either had him checking on her in her room, or running into one another elsewhere in the house.

She did like the kitchen, she had to admit, if only because she could sit on the counter and be tall enough to kiss Steve without either of them having to stand in weird positions. But that would hardly matter once they were in bed, she imagined. So once she was back on her feet, simply took hold of his hand with a grin.

"Yours," Claire answered quickly. "It's closer." Yes, those few steps did make a difference. They were a few steps closer until she was kissing him again.

He liked that eagerness in her, liked that his own matched it, that even as cautious as he felt he was being about things, they weren’t hesitating. The friendship they’d built before made it an easy thing to just trust, to be comfortable going with the flow. Which for Steve wasn’t something that was common. He was impulsive, sure, but he was also the sort who wanted things a very specific way and was willing to force that path.

Maybe it just helped he and Claire wanted the same path.

Even if he couldn’t kiss her, Steve kept his hands on her, drawing her from the kitchen. The last of the dishes left abandoned, something someone was bound to notice and be curious about, the last of his worries at the moment, he urged her right to his room and the moment the door was kicked closed, maybe a little too firmly to be anything but impatient, he was giving into the urge.

Their height difference be damned, he released her just to bring his hands to cup her face, leaned down to kiss her again. Less soft but just as lingering as before. More promise of more beneath it this time.

By this point, Claire was absolutely certain that this was what she wanted. They'd both exercised more than enough caution, she was ready to enjoy this. And didn't they both deserve that? She definitely thought they did.

So when Steve led her into his room, she liked that there was a slightly heightened sense of urgency, with the unfinished dishes and the way he shut the door a little harder than necessary. She leaned up to meet him as he kissed her, hands smoothing up from his stomach to his chest, returning the kiss with just as much softness.

It almost felt like they were picking up where they'd left off that morning. Except that they weren't in bed, of course. Yet. Claire was fine with that for now, though she knew that was where they'd inevitably end up. It was enough to be kissing him again, up on her tiptoes to reach, mouth parting to kiss him more deeply as her eagerness grew.

They'd waited all day for this, and she had to admit, she'd waited a while since she realized she'd had deeper feelings for Steve. A mere 24 hours ago, she never would have believed she would be doing this now. Things were as they always had been, and now everything was changing. For the better, she hoped. No, she believed.

Claire shuffled backward, leaning against the door. The opposite direction of the bed, but it's a temporary move. And, maybe, a subtle hint that it wouldn't be too difficult to pick her up and hold her there for easier kissing.

It was easier to just pin her to the door, faster than the few steps to the bed, and all at once easier and faster was exactly the right way to go. Her hint was picked up and Steve's hands were dropping and gripping her hips in little more than a second, lifting her effortlessly. He could step closer once he did, press his body against hers and deepen the kiss.

With her so close, with the door closed and privacy theirs, things felt more urgent. Like a soft kiss wouldn't do, and yet at the same time like that softness, the tender exploration it promised, was everything he wanted. Except everything he wanted was just Claire.

Every fleeting fantasy, and those that hadn't been so fleeting in the end, came rushing back into his mind. Everywhere he'd wanted things to go that morning before he'd forced a stop to it exactly what he wanted all over again and this time there was no good reason for him to stop. Slow down, maybe, but desire for her burned hot and he didn't want to be the good, noble guy about it anymore.

He just wanted her in every way she was willing to give herself.

She wrapped herself around Steve as he picked her up, legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders. With her back pressed against the door, she didn't have to worry about the height difference, it was all too easy to kiss him hungrily, greedily, as though a dam had burst and all her feelings and desires were flooding through.

Which was essentially what had happened, of course. Now they didn't have to hold back or wait until they were sure. Or for some mythical perfect moment. No, that moment was now.

And it felt perfect. He felt perfect. Claire couldn't stop herself from moaning at the way his body felt against hers, pressed in close, keeping her in place. She wouldn't have pulled herself away even if she could. This was all she wanted.

A hand cupped his face, lips parting, tongue slipping out to tease against his lips. As much as she was in a hurry for Steve to take her immediately, she also wanted to savor this, to let them explore one another. Claire wanted to learn what he liked, how he liked it. She craved that intimacy as much as everything else.

"Worth the wait," she murmured, in between kisses.

It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to slow down if things were racing ahead too fast, he didn't feel like they were in the least but he wanted to be respectful or something, but then her tongue was there instead and any thought of slowing down was cast aside in favor of exactly as fast as things were going. He liked the way things were going.

It seemed like they'd fallen into perfect sync and there was nothing better than the rush of being there with someone who wanted as fiercely as he did, who he had no doubts about. Who he could just let go and be himself with.

Not to mention someone he didn't have to worry about accidentally hurting if he didn't keep total control over himself. Claire was even more invincible than he was; there was no one safer.

He smiled against her lips, caught another lingering kiss before he answered, simply: "Sure hope so. Maybe I'll make you wait every day."

Just during the day, though. Steve didn't think for a second he'd ever be able to keep his hands off of her in private again. Not knowing what having her was like. Not knowing what it felt like to kiss her and hold her in his arms. He was sure of becoming only more entranced by her the more of her he had, and he looked forward to being head over heels in a matter of days.

Trusting his hold and hers on him, he brought one hand between them to slowly, deliberately, start to unbutton her blouse. One little bit eased open at a time, letting his fingers drag across her skin before moving onto the next.

Claire loved that playfulness between them. It was easy, comfortable, and every time Steve hit her with one of those smiles, it gave her a flutter. Even more so now, when there was real intent behind it.

"Sounds like a challenge," she teased, head tilting to nibble gently at his jaw. Already she could imagine how she might attempt to lure him away to privacy even when it might not be strictly convenient. Or appropriate. "I can be pretty persuasive."

As he started on her blouse, she leaned her head back against the door, watching his face. Each button revealed a little more smooth, tan skin, and then a flash of soft pink. Her bra was clearly chosen with the intent to be seen; satin and lace, and cupping her bust with an enticing bit of cleavage.

Lately, with the training she'd been doing, Claire hadn't had much chance to wear anything all that feminine, mostly opting for practical workout clothes or casual wear for work. So tonight she was taking advantage of the opportunity as much for her own enjoyment as to show off for Steve.

“Oh you think so?” he countered, laughter in his voice again. When was the last time he’d laughed so easily? Felt so at ease with someone? He genuinely couldn’t remember. Time and situation had made him even more serious than he naturally was, but with Claire he felt lighter.

He’d always known her presence was good for him, he’d just never realized what that could mean. If ever there were regrets about things, it was always going to be that he’d never realized he could have genuine feelings for her sooner. That moments like this didn’t have to be restricted to his imagination.

Which had never been as good as actually being there with her was. He’d never been able to fill in the way her skin was soft and warm, definitely hadn’t thought much about what she might have on beneath her clothes. Discovering it all sent thrills through him, had his heart racing with excitement.

“Maybe I should put that to the test sometime.” Not right then. Definitely not then. Steve right then was pushing her opened blouse aside, leaning in to press a kiss to her collar.

"I know so," she returned with a hum. That laugh could do her in, make her do anything just to hear it again. God, she was so smitten already. Her feelings had been pretty strong as it was, but knowing Steve wanted her too and being with him like this was only making her fall harder.

There was no hiding the look of utter adoration on Claire's face as he pushed her blouse open further and leaned in to kiss her. Nor was there any hope she could suppress the quiet sound of approval as his lips touched her skin.

A hand moved to the back of his head, the other clumsily working at the buttons of his shirt. There really wasn't a rush, they had all night, but that didn't stop her from wanting more and more.

"We're hardly going to be able to keep our hands off each other, aren't we?" Claire giggled. At least for a while until they got a little more settled into their new normal, she guessed. But she hoped the novelty, the rush of excitement at every kiss and smile and touch, never wore off. She wanted to hold onto that feeling as long as she could.

“Speak for yourself.” She was right, though. Every moment he had his hands on her, the need to keep them there grew. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands off her, but he could convince himself he would. Or try to at least. “I can keep my hands wherever I want them.”

It just so happened that he wanted them on her.

He kept pressing kisses to her skin, no move made to hurry her work on his buttons, though he did note the fumbling, took it as excitement rather than nerves this time. It felt like excitement. He wanted it to be excitement. And he wanted her to take the lead in as much as he could stand to let her.

Every part of him wanted to just race ahead and satisfy the desire for her that only sparked hotter with each opened button. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than undressing against the door, too, but Steve was liking the easy access to her, the way he could just tilt his head and let his lips graze across the curve of her breasts.

"Well, I hope you want to keep them on me," she returned, pointing out the obvious. Her voice was lower, heavier, as Steve was getting her more turned on, but still full of mirth. "You can keep the rest of you on me, too..."

As if he needed another reminder that Claire wanted this. Wanted him. She was sure he wouldn't mind her saying it again. Her clumsiness at undressing him was a mix of excitement and her stubborn insistence on trying to use one hand. Not too stubborn, though, as soon she was bringing the other hand down to unbutton more, at least to where her legs were wrapped around his waist.

Being held against the door was quite enjoyable, though perhaps it'd be more practical if he took her to bed. At the very least, it'd make undressing one another easier. But at the same time, she was content to let him kiss and explore her as he pleased. He may have worried about his authority over her, professionally, and how it might affect their personal relationship, and she understood those concerns.

Though there was still very much a part of her that enjoyed the thought of handing over that control in situations like this. She was getting better at keeping her feelings and desires tightly under wraps, at being careful who she trusted. There was something oddly freeing about trusting someone enough to give herself over, to relinquish that control, and there was no one she trusted more than Steve.

Claire sighed, chest arcing up, chasing the touch of his lips. "Please," she whispered, not even entirely sure what she was asking for, exactly. Just... more. At least a dozen different emotions, some even conflicting, were competing to try and determine how she was actually feeling, but really, she felt all of it. Exultant, overwhelmed, content, and also the aching need that was building within her.

The amusement at her all too obvious hint was quickly cast aside by the way she arched toward his mouth, the softness in her plea. Steve let out a heavy breath against her skin. Would it be more practical to take her to bed? Yes. It was only a few steps and he was more than capable of getting them both there without needing to set her down, and in the span of only a second. But Steve was rather liking having her right where she was, even if where she was meant her jeans weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

He'd just have to explore her in every other way before he got to that part, and really that didn't sound like such a bad idea.

Drawing back enough that he could shrug out of his shirt, let it flutter to the floor while his undershirt was tugged off to follow, Steve was right back to kissing her in the next second. But when he did it this time, his weight shifted to press her more solidly against the door. The grip of one hand loosened to slide slowly across her body. Up her thigh and across her waist, cupping her breast over her bra before he eased the strap off her shoulder and pressed his lips there in its place.

"Tell me." It was a request, even if it was delivered sounding a little more like an order. He couldn't help it. It was just who he was. "What do you want?"

He wanted to hear it. Not just because he wanted there to be no room for confusion. Steve just wanted to hear it, as it turned out.

Narrowing down what she wanted into a single request at that moment was difficult. Luckily, Steve was already taking it upon himself to do things she might have asked for. Namely, removing more clothing.

Claire didn't hide the hunger in her gaze as his undershirt came off. A grin flashed before he was kissing her again, and her mouth was then otherwise occupied. She reveled in running her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, knowing he had her held firmly in place so that she didn't need to hold on to support herself.

"This is a good start," she said with a breathy laugh, helping herself to a few more teasing kisses. With one bra strap down, she quickly pulled the other as well, eager to feel his skin on hers. "It's all in the way. I want to feel you."

Maybe that was the first clue that Claire didn't mind him continuing to give her orders all that much. Especially such reasonable ones. She was still comfortable speaking up or taking the initiative, herself.

And really, it was just like her to have it both ways.

Both of them having a little of both, enough control to suit their individual need for it, giving up enough to be sure they were both having a good time. It was, very likely, something that would take a little figuring out, though at the moment it felt like a natural exchange. Like every move they made was perfectly in tune and if he was the sort of guy who believed in things like fate, he'd call it a sign or something.

But Steve going to need more than that to be sure of anything once the rush of the moment faded, or he gave himself a half second to actually think. Until then, though, he was going with natural and easy and not letting himself overthink everything.

He smiled against her skin, teeth scraping lightly and he brushed a slow series of kisses over the swell of her breasts before drawing back just enough that his gaze could flick up to her. His hands moved unerringly to ease the button of her jeans open, went no further than that. "Maybe we should take this off the door, then."

He could get them off of her without moving, but it would wind up in torn denim and that was a waste. Not to mention not what he wanted for the first time doing this together. He wanted to treat her better. Give her more than that.

He wanted to tear them off of her, sure, but maybe another time. Maybe another time they could be frantic and just let go of control against the bedroom door. This time, he was determined to treat her better than his instincts said he should.

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