nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

Ideas alone don't sum up how much preparation went into this little jaunt. Since he's a strapping lad, he gladly hauled whatever materials to the spot. The firewood, the tables. His good idea came out this way through the lens of her planning and attention to detail.

"It's not cold, it's freezing," which means it takes several attempts to be anything close to still. Matt clenches his teeth that want to shatter.

"What's the SPF on that stuff?" Because now he'll smell like it. Since he can't run away he'll have to fit his hands on her shoulders.

It's only fair he does half the schlepping since it was, after all, his idea. Ver wouldn't have made him carry things all the way from their apartment; that's what taxis are for. They only had to carry things down to the cab and then down to the beach; there'll be less to carry back.

"Is it?" She sighs and stops, rubbing the sunscreen between her hands to warm it up before trying again. "How about how?"

"It's SPF 50." It doesn't smell terrible to her, but his nose is so much more sensitive... "And I have aloe and shea butter for if you get a little burned." Both of which, he knows, have been generously dosed with lavender oil.

Half the schlepping, all the schlepping. Whatever it takes to pull his weight with no pun intended. After setting up and taking in what they've made he already is very, very pleased.

If the goosebumps on his skin don't say anything than his nod does. "Okay...better." Matt is glad he brought a shirt and a Columbia sweater for after the sunsets. Warm or not that breeze hits. And he didn't think over just how much sunblock would be protecting his lily white self. "Thank you."

"Does this mean I get to help you out too?" Slick her up with all the lotion that somehow already smells nicer with her skin rather than his. It's difficult to give your girlfriend compliments about appearance but he can tell when she feels good. And in her oh so glamorous hat and wrap, she is beautiful.

Half the schlepping. She's not a monster. Besides, what kind of fun is he gonna be if he's worn out before the party even starts?

The goosebumps are telling, but so is his tone and the way he starts to relax into her touch. She's quick to make sure his coverage is even, but after that, it probably doesn't need so much massaging into his skin... "You're welcome." There are blankets and things for later. But that's hours away. He's going to be lucky if he gets to keep his sweater.

"Of course." That's half the fun of doing this for him: the pleasure of anticipation. Knowing he appreciates her efforts on some level is all she's looking for; whichever of his senses she pleases, she'll try to keep it up. The fact she can do that and be glamorous is a bonus.

Heavy lifting couldn't possibly be nearly as sapping to him as a good night out after a solid eight hours of work. Nexus, Verity, the whole arrangement here and now is not sapping. But he does appreciate that consideration. Matt is usually a quiet sort so the socializing will be what will wear him out in the end, happily so.

His lips curl to a smile. Massaging is warming too. And he isn't about to complain. As far as he knows her selection of block is just thick and needs a lot of blending. It's gotta last. Reapplication won't be a problem. "Am I good?" Matt turns his head to help any examination. Ears, neck, chest, stomach, arms.... all that needs her diligent care.

Then chalk it up to her feminism. She won't fall into the 'big strong man does hard work, weak little woman looks cute' dynamic so easily, even when she doesn't feel like taking yet another trip back and forth to carry down another cooler. They'll be a team. It's how they work best.

One of the great things about a beach party is that neither of them has to be 'on' all the time. There's plenty of solitary, quiet things to do when they need some downtime from socializing. The party will still be there when they get back to it. All that water is just begging them to come for a swim, after all.

He knows perfectly well it's not required, which should make it all the sweeter. "Always." She catches his chin in one hand to hold him steady for a kiss. "Mm, but you meant with the sunblock. Yes."

Feminism, favoritism, whatever it is, Matt is glad. Though he would always practice under those that can help should, and those that cannot help will find other ways to contribute. As a team they can carry more together. That last cooler was nothing.

The real host is the food and the beach itself. Solitary times together to sit and canoodle and with others? What an idea this is.

Matt stays steady and has to try and stifle his grin as he gets a kiss and gives one right back. "No red suit in the sand. I'm not that guy," he jokes gently against her lips. "You going to stay covered for now?" He touches on the thin, flowing fabric.

The feminism is strong in this one, but favoritism seems more likely. They carry the weight of ten city blocks on their shoulders as a team, what's one more cooler?

True: Clint is clearly the real hero of this party, cooking for them all and keeping an eye on things while the rest of them play. He's going to get such rewards later. Not that she hasn't been working to keep him and Kate well fed these last six months or so, but she's sure she can figure something out for him.

"It's not the suit that makes you good," she reminds him quietly, "although that suit does look great on you." She has to ogle him lots since she's the only one in this relationship who can. It's just. Balancing things out. "Depends on when you want to unwrap me, honey."

The cooler won't call the police either. Or sue. Cooler wins over Hell's Kitchen. And those city blocks are damn safe and lucky nowadays.

Mr. Barton knew he was a hero from the start. Protecting the fun factor and serving his fellow Nexans, he is really in for some serious kudos in return. Matt and Verity are going to have to put their heads together to figure out how to show their thanks.

He feels good in the suit, most of the time. It's the mobility. Matt always has this hesitance to move independently like he wants to the first few hours in Nexus. It's a habit. No pretending here and now. "I would have unwrapped you yesterday if I knew it was all it takes," he pretends to think before smirking. "...I did though, didn't I?"

They certainly are. They always were lucky to have so much of his attention. She only hopes they realize it.

When Matt and Ver put their heads together to plan something... well, then things like this happen. Clint's in for good things.

The freedom of the masks is good for him, but she prefers when he doesn't need to wear them with her. If he doesn't take them off soon she's going to take his shades from him. He knows the rules. "Yes, you did. Which is good, you've been doing it so much lately I think I'm forgetting how." She sighs the last part, as if it's both possible and lamentable.

"Why don't you start with my feet and work your way up?" The unwrapping can come later, and there's something to be said for getting to touch places that are otherwise covered.

Feeling more at ease means something to Matt. The neighborhood feels more at ease. It's coming in waves. He doesn't need a ticker tape parade. Just to feel more at home. And he hopes that Verity being there every step of the way is helping her own Hell's Kitchen in her heart.

...maybe there could be some sort of intricate archery target to develop or look for. That's up the guy's alley.

No shades? But... then he'll have to just deal then. That's how it all works, Matthew Murdock. And the hiding is never from her. He knows he can't and does not ever want to shy from her. When Matt has put on an act for all the world, the muscle memory is something he's got to fight. "This means I'll have to stick around to help. If you forget and then...tsk! You'd be trapped. My poor, sweet love can't be confined to one outfit ever."

Matt grins and tilts his head. "Good thinking. Foot burns are not going to happen here." Since they're seated, cozy and have the block he'll sit back a little and gesture for her to lend him a limb. "According to Foggy that is not why people wear socks with sandals."

Knowing the neighborhood's feeling more at ease, and feeling more at ease in it, has been a slowly emerging surprise for her. There was no sudden 'eureka' moment for her; she didn't wake up one day and realize she felt comfortable in this new home away from home (away from home). It's been like letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She'd been thinking in more cake-like directions. These aren't ideas she's interested in combining. But they could try to do both.

Yes, he'll just have to deal with being his own wonderful self. And having her adore him for it. Such a burden, but such is life. "Yes, it does. I know it's going to really cramp your lonely bachelor style, but you should never have taken me in if you didn't intend to keep me."

Verity leans back and stretches her legs out over his lap. He can have fun with that. "No? I'm not sure I want to know if they've got another, even less valid, excuse for that sort of thing."

That's what he had been hoping for. Verity has had her home taken from her. And that leaves a hole in your heart. She has been mending it very well on her own. New York is a part of people forever. He wanted to give her a chance to love it again the way she could. You can't force that. Now she can breathe with him.

Who doesn't like cake? No one Matt Murdock wants to know. And a Verity cake is a thing to behold.

His own wonderful self feels more so with the wonderful self of her own when she is that buffer, that strength to stand with him. "I'm getting too old for the lonely bachelor thing. And I think that you're a keeper. We get so much out of it together." Like never ever having to endure another sunburn. Matt rubs his hands to warm them before getting a good dollop of sunscreen.

"I just can't think of why anyone would want to. Feet are unprotected in sandals as it is." He resists a chance to tickle because getting kicked right now would not be fun. Her strong, shapely legs really do kick hard.

Matt Murdock is a sneak and a wonder and she loves him for it. New York will always be her home, but the Nexus is her home now too. Maybe it's for the best she keep a foot in each; in a way, it helps balance her out. And it's good for him, too, to have a place where he doesn't have to pretend. They can breathe together.

Cake is an easy winner over not-cake. Anyone who doesn't agree to can kindly leave.

Sometimes it's hard to imagine him needing a buffer or strength to lean on. He's so capable, so strong, so good. She's glad he isn't perfect. She could never keep up with perfect. She hums contentedly while he gets the sunscreen ready, watching his hands move like they're the most interesting thing in the world. "Yeah, it worked out pretty well for us. You're not old. You're not even at the age where people start asking if you're gonna settle down soon."

It's good of him to not tickle. She does kick very hard, and with precision. He's been witness to it, he doesn't want to be the victim. It's nicer to enjoy the soft and sure way he touches her. "I have no idea. I try not to think about those sorts of things, it's just too horrible and the world can be bad enough."

There was a chance it would never work. Home is home, and no other place can be the same home. A person can have multiple manifestations of home the way that he has found it in Verity and Nexus. But could there be love like the love a New Yorker feels for the city? He hoped. And that hope has comforted her and himself.

Cake for all the excellent meats and fixings, that sounds like a solid trade in the end.

Matt couldn't handle perfect either. Verity is just fantastic and right. Knowing that she knows him and all his truths and lies helps keep the balance and never lets him lose his sense of gravity. That surpasses perfection so very much. He could never be compatible with perfect.

Steady, firm hands massage a little as they go. Up over her ankles, her strong calves and to the knees. This means he has to push up some of her sarong in respectable measurements at a time. "My logic exactly, honey." He chuckles.

Home is him. In her most secret heart, where she keeps the things she's scared to tell even him, she knows that would be true no matter what had happened with her lost world. New York, Nexus, none of it matters as much as him.

Not feeling pressured, by him or by herself, to be 'perfect' is such a relief. She wouldn't know where to start, and most of the advice given on these subjects is dangerous bullshit. It would never end well for someone like her. A little gravity, a few flights of fancy, and a good sense of balance with her favorite dance partner is so much more, well, perfect for her.

Respectable measurements? Careful, Matt, your Catholic is showing again--but in a way that amuses her, if all those pleased little hums are any indication. When she can reach him she wiggles her toes against his arm or side. Not to tickle, just to say 'hello'. "But of course. Great minds think alike."

She bites her lip when his hands start working up her thighs. Part of her is tempted to unknot the sarong and let things fall where they may, but this is part of the game. It's fairer if they're both a little frustrated. And they're in public... her brother is around... they have to be good.

"You think Foggy's coming? Or did Marci rope him into something back home?"

He's really never experienced this sense of calm and stability before. She's home to him. It's not a distant place in the past or a far off pipe dream in the future. Verity is here and now, real to him. That's why Matt feels so damn happy.

They don't need perfect. And goodness knows they aren't perfect as people. And to be perfect for each other? Well, maybe that's something that is as close to perfect as it is going to get because they get along so swimmingly. That's all that's needed.

"Ver," even if those toes don't tickle, he laughs softly. Of course his Catholic is showing. He's reached her thighs and he's doing his best to behave. They're wonderful to touch and equally perfect to rest his head against. And not so restful things. Matt clears his throat softly. "You have way, way more skin showing than me do we have enough sunscreen?" Her brother is around yes. And they're being respectful and cute. And really not going to do anything. Much.

"He said he was going to come. And that he'd be late. But all of that is going to be okay because he promised to bring more beer."

If they make their homes in each other's hearts, does the setting really matter?

Perfect for each other is an easier goal since they've already met it. And, bonus, they get to be ridiculously happy together. Being able to work out the rest is great for giving themselves a sense of accomplishment, if nothing else.

"Hmm?" She has no idea why he might possibly be protesting. None at all. Really. So innocent over here. The toes aren't a problem anymore since they're curled up tight now. His hands on her thighs, well. She's only human. And only squirming a little. "Yes, I brought lots. Several bottles, in case someone forgot theirs."

What was the point of this game, again? She's starting to forget. That probably means she's losing.

Oh, well.

"Ah. Good, it'll be nice to see him."

That means they would never be homeless, there's always a person and a place to seek refuge. That's what you call blessed. Ridiculous happiness, ease, that's why these moments are more important than ever before. All the times before make the right now mean so much.

"Verity," he says with greater insistence and more laughter. Those piggies are curled up tight and against him. He's sure they're polished too. Matt's laughter lessens a little. "You might have to just come on closer." Here, he'll just go ahead and...pick her up and pull her on his way. Sandy knees and shins are a small price to pay when she is in his lap.

"He tried to get Marci to come. She's got some kind of Hampton's work retreat...I don't know. I think she's still trying to play the game. It just means Foggy's clear to be with us after he sees her off."

No, they'll never be homeless again. These times they get together make so much of the waiting worth it. Their happy easement into this new life together has felt so easy. The hardest part has been letting themselves have this.

"Hmm?" What? She's holding still this time. What is there for him to complain about now? (Of course she got a pedicure before their beach party she's not a heathen.) "Oooh, might I?" He can go ahead and pick her up; she'll shift and settle into his lap however he wants her, so long as she can wrap her arms around him and give him a kiss. "This better?"

Well, that's quite the revelation about their favorite Foggybear. "Did he? Huh. He must really like her. Or really not like her."

Who would have thought that the hardest part about being happy was just allowing it to happen? It's treated like a destination or a range of being.

Still but curled up and pressed to him. And she does have darling feet. Though his attention is pulled from them. Arms embrace her and he takes and gives a kiss. "Yes, I think that's much, much better. Now maybe I can get your arms. Those aren't...completely covered." The same goes for her chest, but that floppy hat is what's keeping her covered enough.

"I think he likes her quite a bit. Marci is....Marci. She grew up the same as we did but is sure she's got what it takes for the highballs and silver spoon things. But whatever tastes she's got, there's some for Foggy."

Not 'just'. It took a lot of work for them to get to this point. Some of which was letting themselves have it, but so much of it has been dealing with their pasts. Happiness is a destination it's better not to pack a lot of baggage for.

Still is an improvement. Being in his lap is better still. "Oh, is that what you wanted? My arms?" Ver moves a hand down his arm, slowly and deliberately. The other stays cozy around his shoulders. "Well, it's true they could use the attention. And the sunscreen."

"Nothing wrong with liking nice things. And since I got the nicest, she'll have to settle for the Hamptons."

Here in destination happiness Matt is glad to unpack. All the heavier pieces of pain, worry and flaws are not worth carrying. And not alone. The work isn't done. It just feels so much easier than before.

"Oh yes, ma'am. These lovely arms." He scoots to get a small palm portion of sunscreen "Do you work out?" Matt's ability to keep a straight face is gone for the day.

He kisses her cheek rather than correct her. There's another soon after and directly on her mouth because she is the nicest thing. "I think now and then Foggy gets frustrated. He's very capable of being professional, just finds the trappings to come off as stifling. Marci got caught up in L&Z, we could have been that too." Instead they're up and coming Nelson and Murdock.

Two backs can bear more weight than one. Two pairs of hands unpack faster. Two pairs of lips can soothe the aching places.

"I'm not sure I'm old or married enough to be a 'ma'am'," she points out with an oh so put-upon huff in her voice. It barely hides the laughter. "Nope, this is all from good clean living and competitive shopping. Those bags get heavy."

Kisses are better than attempts to convince her to join him in wrong-headedness, that's true. She'll give him another kiss before remembering they're trying to have a conversation. "Well, that's the beauty of freedom, isn't it? We all get to find the life that suits us, and everyone else gets the same choice. ... But it can hurt when the people we love don't live lives we're comfortable in."

Realizing she sounded a little too wistful there, she'll try to cover up for it with more kisses.

The power of two can do so very much. They can lean on one another, draw strength and if needed be carry one another.

"Would you prefer miss, madam or young lady for such a youthful, unwedded woman?" Though taken? That's different. She is so very, very taken the same way he is so taken with her. Matt's voice drops in tone, "you should take me shopping so I can be strong like you." Which brings the obligatory bicep squeeze.

They can converse. They do it plenty. But can they on the beach in this lovely mood? Challenging. "True bu--" More kisses oh. Verity you are trying to pull a fast one there. "Loving someone means loving parts that can be uncomfortable. Maybe not for long?" They're talking about Foggy and Marci. Maybe? Matt kisses her again. "Foggy said he's bringing party favors. I don't know what that means."

And he will be oh so delighted for any touching if it's coming from her. You've seen her right?

I can't think of a non-tasteless reply to that.

:D

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