nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

Being no chef he at least has a very keen set of taste buds. And what is life without some variety and spice? Their strong personalities braid and contrast in all the right places. And their passions match for one another. Whispers, shouts, spoken and hummed. For now Matt hums.

Dancing and playing will keep him hot too. But oh he would not turn down whatever they can do at home.

"I can't help it..." She is so incredibly kind. It's astounding to him. Knowing truth far deeper than he does and still she has room to care and care for him.

He may not cook, but he knows the important recipes. How to make her feel safe, how to make her giggle, how to make her happy. Those are recipes so tricky, even the master chefs at Le Cordon Bleu would find them too hard. The humming makes her smile and tilt her head to hear it better. It's so cute.

Those'll help, true. But still.

"You say that like you've tried." Don't scare her with those kinds of ideas, Matt. She knows she isn't good and kind, she knows exactly who she is. Loving him is easy compared to having to live in the world.

All these dishes are house specials. The recipes are so secret that they've never been written down. Just executed. Matt continues the humming, it's sort of a tune, sort of not. He's not a musician but can carry a tune. Whatever it is, it's their own.

"I haven't. I have no reason at all to stop. You'd have to make me. I don't know if that would work though at this point." If he has to say it once or a thousand times he will. With or without the juvenile tone. Seated and holding her in his lap it's like they're replacing the bed or the couch or the floor or the favorite chair, they could be like this anywhere. Nexus, Hell's Kitchen and beyond.

"I love taking care of you, being close to you. ...you basically." She affirms the belief that he can nurture, care and not just clobber. There's gentleness not just violence to share with other people.

Edited 2016-06-02 04:11 (UTC)

Sometimes, the best way to learn something is working beside a master of the craft. It's how he taught her how to truly love someone, after all. The tune he's humming will be remembered always in her heart. If she can pick out any repetition in it, she'll try to hum in harmony.

"I'd have to make you? Welp. We're never going to find out, in that case." There's nothing, nothing that could ever convince her to try to chase him away like that. She couldn't bear it, and he deserves better. Curled up with him, wherever they are, she's happy.

"I love you too. Being close to you, taking care of you..." He's not the only one who's had to learn to nurture and be nurtured in turn. They're getting pretty good at it.

That has significantly helped him with actual cooking. Working together, with encouragement and taking things step by step is how it should be done. Yes, these months have flown by it's true. Every moment his highly concentrated with how much they've put into one another. Their relationship has never had the touch of opinions of others, of egos or special interpretations... just truth.

"That covers it." Always and forever. Though for all the play, there is a real concern that is becoming less and less.

"And every day I'm finding new reasons why I'm blessed to be with you." Because of that.

"...wanna walk with me in a bit?" Not just yet because it's so comfortable right here.

It's more fun with a partner, too. That part shouldn't be overlooked. They've both been surprised by the ways their partnership has developed and crept into the parts of their lives they thought were secret and sacrosanct. Truth, yes, but also gentleness.

"Every day?" She knows he means it, but it's still hard to believe. It's too much wonderful to expect in her life. He alone is enough; to be loved by him is more than she ever dared hope.

"In a bit," she agrees. This is too comfortable. "Don't want the sunscreen to wash off right away." Massages are less fun with sunburns.

The partnership makes more happen. Matt has operated on his own for so long. The rare times he has to go off in to the night alone now is when he can appreciate how much he's gained from knowing her, loving her. He wouldn't be the person he was a year ago.

"Uh huh. Today it's that I know that you really make sunscreen smell nice. And...a few other reasons." That's all he's got first and foremost. Matt grins and rests his head against her.

"We're letting it settle. And you're gonna have to add another layer or something." No rush. Today is not at all about rushing or any big plans. This is the big plan.

Neither of them are the people they were a year ago, or six months ago. They've been through too much together. Learning to help each other to make time for each other, learning to trust with everything... of course, they've changed. For the better.

"I hope you'll tell me about those other reasons later," she murmurs. A finger curls under his chin and tilts his head just enough for her to give him a kiss. "I didn't know it was possible to make sunscreen smell nice."

As big plans go, it's a pretty big one. They did well. "True, another layer would be smart. We can walk while the second layer soaks in."

The exciting transformation isn't even finished yet. Matt is looking forward to how he'll be in the future. Their future together. This is all absolutely for the better. There's not a doubt in my mind. Solitude has had no benefit in the long run. Looking back it was unfulfilling, empty.

"I'd be glad to. After is a good idea. It is going to take awhile." All the reasons laid out in privacy. His smiling lips slowly come to purse against her's. One kiss? Another would be good two.

It's practically scandalous to be able to touch one another so much like this in public. And they've never been shy with PDA to start.

It'll never be finished. They'll be doing this forever, growing and changing, finding new ways to fit themselves together. It's like a dance. And it's so much better than being alone.

"Oh? I hope it isn't too complicated, you know how easily I get distracted." Why not make it an even three? Three's a good number, very lucky.

She thinks the scandal would be in loving someone this much and not touching them. They're not shy about public displays, but they're careful about the types. Holding hands, kissing, but when there's a chance they'll be seen, they keep it low-key. Those nights on the roof don't count.

Dancing with another person is always better than dancing alone. They fall into sync, one to the other to the music of a song that keeps playing breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

However long they stay in the sand eventually they make it to the water right. Matt ditches the shirt, the glasses, all of it to the safety of their blankets and belongings. "Are you going to keep the hat and sarong?" He hasn't dashed off yet to the water but he finds himself to be oh so excited for it.

Swimming without it being a watery escape from danger. Imagine.

When their heartbeats and breathing sync, it's better than a dance. It's a glorious chance for the whole world to make sense, because the whole world is the two of them.

While they sit, Ver quietly describes the scene for him. They've been to the beach before, and she told him how it looked this morning when they arrived to set up. But this time, while they're sitting quiet, she takes his hand and sketches the scene on his palm: here's the cliffs, here's the sand, here's the high tide line; this is the bonfire, and us, and everything. People milling about are dots and squiggles, the lightest touches and caresses against his oh so sensitive skin. And while she draws she talks, labeling everything in a low voice meant only for his ears.

Ver doesn't get up immediately when he starts shucking clothes. Let the woman enjoy the view for a moment. He is so very handsome and she never ever gets tired of looking. "Not for swimming. That'd be impractical." The hat comes off first, weighed down by her bag so it doesn't blow away. Then she stands, shaking the sand off her sarong before untieing the knot and unwinding it. He can enjoy the show in his own way.

It's a little piece of paradise for the two of them, these moments when they get to live normal lives.

The whole damn world making sense for once is a matchless bliss.

If her name wasn't Verity, Bliss would be a good one. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Be as sweet as she is. His palms are no longer a highway of nerves, prints and callouses. Now it's a work of art with an intimate walk through by the artist. Or perhaps photographer, she did not make the shore as it is or the cliffs but capture it in a moment for him. It is just as beautiful. Now and then her whispers get a kiss or a murmur of approval.

Cotton rasps over his skin. It also gives him a chance to stretch. Matt tries not to smirk too much as he hears her heart rate kick up. One arm across the other and then both shaking out. The sand dropping away sounds like a small rain of pebbles as the fabric moves off of Verity. The wind and heat of the sun touch her body and it's very much like she's wearing nothing at all. Oh yes. She's being admired. Intensely.

"I should have known. You're always practical."

The bliss is all his doing, she'd maintain, but he might be able to convince her to try and take a more objective view. Maybe. If they don't get distracted from it.

'Bliss' isn't a name she'd choose for herself. But for this moment, for the picture she's painting for him: perfect. This is bliss. The whispers, the kisses, the approval... getting to wrap themselves up in this world they're making for themselves and simply enjoy it. Bliss.

Admiration from him is always welcome, even though it still makes her blush. Once her sarong is folded and set aside she reaches out to run a hand down his chest. "That's me, the practical one. I kept you, after all, which is an extremely practical choice." Her hand drifts lower, but moves to slide into his before it gets too distracting.

"Lead the way, honey."

All his doing? No, no. It was collaborative if he's involved. Trying to make a point and keep objective is not as easy because they sure do get distracted. The wind changes and there goes the thought. That's just fine. The feeling and sentiment remain.

This must be why people take vacations. Matt has never really taken a break outside of a few days off or a trip to Nexus. Outside of Hell's Kitchen it is a refuge. At least he hadn't approached it the way he had for today. The whole world can wait outside of this day and all of it's peace.

Her blush is like a lantern. He was coming closer to her anyway. "Oh it is." No, it isn't but love is really not a logical thing all the time. "Extremely practical. The benefits are endless." The same with the frustration. Matt reaches up to take her hand. Already it's like he can feel lines drawn over his flesh. Her knuckles get a kiss.

There were a good amount of dots in her illustration. True to it the beach is large enough to have some privacy as they cross the sand until it's compact and wet. No rush to the steps just a leisurely stroll, hand in hand because he can do this unaided. "Are you gonna rush in with me?" They're not even a whole foot in yet. Matt's skin betrays him with goosebumps. The first touch of the ocean is always cold.

Vacations. It's like a foreign word to her. To both of them. They might have to try that sometime. They can travel anywhere they want, after all: why not visit all those places they've only heard about? Paris is still dotted with restaurants full of jazz music and good wine. There are islands in the Pacific where they could be the only people for miles. If only...

Yes, he does belong closer to her. "The--oh." That was unexpected. The kiss on her knuckles makes her weak-kneed and she nearly falls into Matt's arms before she catches herself. "That was. Um." You know what? She's just going to stay there for a minute. "What were we talking about?"

A leisurely stroll into the water is perfect. The cold water makes her gasp when it splashes over her legs. "I'll always go with you, honey, you should know that by now." She dove head-first into the heroing gig for him. What's an ocean in comparison? His hand gets a squeeze of encouragement. "Always."

The world is so wide and open, just like that isn't it? Maybe they should just go for it. Runaway for a few days from everyone and everything. (With a contact number because Foggy Nelson is fully capable but sure likes a lifeline.)

Their hands now are clasped between them. Matt even reaches for the other for a moment for a squeeze. He laughs softly as his heart warms to molten at her reaction. Still. Continually. "We were talking about how I love you and how extremely practical it is that you have me."

And that is that. Right?

"Together it is." Except maybe not the way she thinks. "Have you ever read that footprints in the sand inspirational?" Because he's going to carry her into the waves like she's a lost mermaid coming on home.

Yes. They should do that. That's a thing they should do. Something just for them. Won't it be lovely?

Squeezes and hands held are perfect, but she's still going to lean her forehead against his shoulder until she's feeling steady. "Oh right. Well. It is. The return on investment is crazy good. And I love you too."

Love is a good place to end, yes.

"Erm..." She's going to take a minute to try and keep the sass outta this. "Something about Jesus being there when someone's in trouble? Why?" Getting picked up and carried into the water was not on her to-do list. Not that she'll mind, but it's a surprise. She gasps, squirms a bit, then settles into his arms and wraps hers around him. "Was I in trouble?"

It would be a dream come true. Impossible and unimaginable are becoming obsolete every day. You never know what will happen next with these two.

Matt cherishes the feeling of her leaning on him. It's a sign of trust in him, support and a little surrender. "See? Practical." His grin is starting to get Cheshire. She should have known something would be up. Surprise!

"No. Maybe not this time," he laughs warmly as she settles. "If that's not comfortable there's always other options. See, I don't know if anyone's told you but you're delightful to carry." He might have told her that, actually.

Their ranges of likely behavior, separately and together, have certainly been expanding.

"So practical," she agrees. She's already surrendered nearly everything to him. Does one more little victory mean so much to him? Of course, it's a very nice sort of victory. Anything that brings them closer together is a very nice sort of thing.

Yes, she probably should have known something was up. If she hadn't been so busy concentrating on breathing and standing up, she would have noticed that Cheshire grin of his. Now, all that's left for her to do is kiss it. "I don't know how many people you think get to do this," she deadpans, "but the list is very exclusive, you know. But everyone agrees that I am delightful to carry."

Keen senses mean he is aware of the little things. They're cherished. Matt never wants to take any gesture from her for granted. It brings, and keeps, them close together.

Now that standing up is out of her concern she can worry about breathing. If he can't take that away in small increments, kiss by kiss. "I think," and he feigns really pondering this while swaying with the motion of the waves, carefully walking to further depths. "I think that there are three at the most." Verity deadpan makes him smile still.

The fact he cherishes so much of what she does has certainly done a lot to let her open up to him, to the true affection and trust between them that is the foundation of everything else.

Who needs to breathe? There are kisses to be had. He can have every molecule of air in her lungs if he wants, kiss by kiss, to take it from her. She loves and adores him, every inch, every drop of him. More than she loves air. (Fuck you, oxygen, everyone knows you're poison.) "Mm. Three?" She claims a few more kisses before following up with, "Who?"

It had been so long since anyone got to him anything close to the way Verity does. All it took was knowing she saw him as he was, in plain sight. For all the lies and careful act he puts on, he was needing the same way she was. Matt let her in and has never looked back.

Someone needs to breathe, eventually. Their kiss is flavored with the salt of the air and sea. There are so many ways to kiss and love this woman. Matt wants to find them all. "Maybe three. Uh. Clint?" He's guessing without any evidence. A wave threatens his balance enough to get him to bend his knees. Gotta be careful with the precious cargo. Though now it's lapping at his waist and splashing up onto Ver.

Well, the human lie detectors have to stick together, don't they? Who else ever going to understand what they go through?

True, she needs to let him breathe. Might as well get some air for herself too. The cold ocean water feels colder after the warmth of being held against him and has her shivering after every splash. "Hmm. I suppose I'd allow it in certain circumstances, but I don't remember it ever coming up with him." A hand leaves his shoulders to trail down into the water and flick a splash up against his chest.

He thought, perhaps deep understanding was not meant to be. That was before. It's all he can do to look back on where he has been and be grateful again and again where he is. Human lie detectors are in short supply as it is. They're operating on love and a buddy system.

"What--Aaah!" the reaction is a little exaggerated. That's what you call chilly there when he's not expecting it. Goosebumps texture his skin and might make it even more interesting to rest against. "It'd be a shame if you fell." No, Matt wouldn't. Ever. "I want to go farther but you don't have to. How about you just hang around."

Wait for it. He's got a plan. His strong arms hoist her higher. One leg up and over his shoulder while he's supporting her torso and arm, making sure there's a balance. "Giddyup?"

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