encompass | ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2019-2020 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

Maybe.

[ he hasn't seen one but he's pretty sure he can find just about everything in that huge house. Steve also knows finding it won't be too difficult.

But her insisting on this is actually interesting. ]

If you ever find it, you know where I live.

...And if you find it?

[ bits and pieces of the world drift away. it's only her and him, now, sitting in the grass and behaving as though there isn't some grander, odder purpose that ties them both to this space. ]

I don't mind the stubble. This one is on you.

[ just like that, he passes the ball to her court. She seems to find it unacceptable, not Steve and while he's happy to accept her authority, he's also happy to let her take care of things.

Especially in this particular matter. ]

I bet you can find it before dinner.

[ he's challenging her. more than that, he's inviting her to take a liberty that he won't quite put into words. she suspects she could make him...if she pressed, if she pushed, if she revealed exactly how curious she felt. but peggy relents. it'll be all the better, she thinks, if and when she does find a razor.

clearing her throat - sitting a little taller - she glances away, back to the house, and wonders if it would appear to eager if she left now to go looking. ]

Don't you think I might have more important things to do?

Dunno. I think you can spare a couple of minutes.

[ he doesn't think it'll take her longer than that. Peggy is as resourceful as they come. ]

If it really bothers you so badly.

[ and clearly it does. He half-wonders why. What is it with Peggy and his stubble, really? ]

It's not that it bothers me, Steve, it's that it's..

[ she sputters. why is she defending herself? it's not a tactic peggy tends to take. rather, it's sod what everyone else thinks and she's better off sparing her breath to cool her porridge than winning them over to her side.

but it's always different with steve. ]

Different. I suppose it's different.

[ now she does stand, pressing the creases out of her skirt. ]

Clipboard, please.

[ she holds out a hand. ]

[ there are times in which Steve doesn't understand her. Still, he seems to know better than poking her when she's on defense. ]

Yes ma'am.

[ he doesn't look at her writings but he does add his sketch on top. At the bottom of the page, he's scribbled 'for Peggy' above his signature. ]

[ later, back inside, she tucks his drawing in-between the pages of a personal notebook. safe and separated from work. kept for herself. there are observations that peggy makes for her own sanity, ones she won't share with the top brass, and steve's still competent drawing hand is one of them.

that, she knows, is none of their business. but she's glad it's hers.

meanwhile, she didn't have to look too far to find a spare leather dopp kit with a razor and brush and a tin of nearly-unused cream. it was sitting under the sink in the master bedroom - a room neither of them claimed as their own - but peggy knew exactly where to look. he'd given her some silly deadline of by dinner but she doesn't wait it out all that long.

rather, she hears the pipes whistle and engage as steve showers after his morning run. and when he's done, when he steps back into his bedroom from its attached ensuite bathroom, she's waiting with the straight razor tapping on her thigh. wordless, she sits at the foot of his bed.

made, she noticed, to regulation standards. good lad. ]

[ he's in the middle of washing his hair when he hears her walk in. He knows it's her, too; he can smell her perfume the minute she enters his bedroom. It takes him a moment to realize that Peggy is in his bedroom and another moment to hope to God she won't reach beneath his mattress and find the notebook.

Other than the hidden notebook, his room is neat. He doesn't have any personal belongings besides the shield and the clothes he got from Stark. There are books, some sketches of scenery, a few pencils.

He walks outside in his bottoms, still drying his hair. ]

Hi. I see you found it.

I did. [ find it. ] My first guess was the right guess.

[ oh but bloody hell, why did he have to walk out here without a stitch on his upper half? perhaps she didn't think this avenue through—forgetting how her brain cells seemed to abandon her whenever steve's chest is on display. but she does manage to disguise a hard swallow and, turning her attention away and downward, she picks through the discovered dopp kit with her spare hand. ]

And, unsurprisingly, Howard stocks the good stuff.

[ she clears her throat and...standing, crossing the room, she holds out the razor. assuming (naturally) that he'd take it.

—so near, now, that she can smell soap and the heat of him. ]

[ it's nice, seeing her on his bed. It makes him think about all sorts of things. If she ever stays the night, the sheets will smell like her, rich perfume and soap.

He seems to realize he's staring when she walks across the room and offers him razor. He arches an eyebrow and shakes his head. ]

You're not going to stick around and help? It was your idea. I have no idea how to use a fancy set like that.

[ bullshit. He can figure it out. He doesn't want to. Why shouldn't she stay and sit back down on his bed?? why shouldn't she stay close like this? That he wants her to stay so badly actually helps him find his confidence and ask her to, in his own odd request for assistance. ]

You...want my help.

[ it's not a question. but a kind of prowling, curious conclusion. peg glances over her shoulder, at the dopp kit she left sitting on the bed, and then to the open door. he wants her to stay? and help? and he's not wearing his shirt and suddenly the room feels unbearably warm.

peggy clears her throat before turning to face him once more. chin up, eyes on his eyes, because she's damned well lost if she lets them stray. ]

It's a knife, Steve. You—[ she makes vague, shaving gestures with the bare blade ]—scrape. There's nothing to it.

It's not like the sets I know. You seem familiar with it and you want me to shave, don't you?

[ it's a challenge, if there ever was one. She's here, that has to mean something. Steve's look seems to say fish or cut bait. He thinks ( he hopes ) he knows which option she'll opt for. The corners of his mouth twist into a smile. ]

Come on. It won't take too long.

[ not too long, he says. ]

[ helluva corner he's backed her into. if she refuses, then she opens herself up to questions of why. what makes this the line in her sand when she's been a near constant presence for nearly other domestic duty since they both took to living in this gargantuan mansion? peggy clicks her tongue, tastes the metallic psychosomatic flavour of her own impatience, and waggles the very sharp blade in the air between them.

steve bloody rogers. he's...he's incorrigible. years on ice, and he's still as impossibly difficult and wonderful as he's ever been. another note for her personal columns rather than her professional ones. ]

Get a chair. [ she concedes. no. orders. ] That one by the desk'll do. Haul it back into the bathroom. By the sink.

[ she bits down on the razor's handle, holds it still between her teeth, and begins the meticulous process of rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. ]

Edited 2020-04-01 18:59 (UTC)

[ last night was all soft. Steve's teasing seems to have inspire all that softness to turn to steel. He doesn't seem to mind it one bit, however, he watches her for a moment before nodding. ]

Yes ma'am.

[ he moves at once, walking over to get the chair and move it to the bathroom as she's ordered. He takes a seat and tries to bite back his smile. He shouldn't be teasing her too terribly. She's being wonderfully kind, after all. He has a feeling, however, that if he tells her that, she'll probably smack him. ]

[ she uses this time to stop up the sink and fill it halfway with warm, clear water. beyond that, she sets up her 'station' with the soap and the brush and a leather strop. she's stropping the razor, still, when he returns with the chair and places it exactly where she wants it. ]

Remember. This is a lesson. [ she's already chiding him. ] I expect you to pay attention. I won't always have time or inclination to be your valet.

Yes ma'am.

[ it seems to be the motto of the day. He's dutiful, obedient, even. As if he knows that it's what she needs at the moment, rather than the teasing and him being a wise-ass. Besides, why should he complain, when she's about to do as he's asked her, strictly or otherwise? ]

I'm paying very close attention.

[ though to what, is unclear. ]

[ she damn well knows there's insubordination hidden in his easy, practiced obedience. she can't quite sniff it out, yet, but she's sure she'll find it before the end. peggy lets the razor balance on the sink's edge and, taping the brush bristles against her palm, she tilts her chin toward the chair. ]

Well?

[ good lord. he's going to make her articulate every damned command. it's malicious compliance—rather than doing what he knows she'll want, he waits for her to say it. ]

Go on. Take a seat. You're the one who gave your word it wouldn't take long.

I did, didn't I.

[ he moves towards the chair and sits down, watches her all the while. he doesn't know why this feels right, rather than simply asking Peggy to cook her dinner and ask for that dance that she's promised him five years ago. Maybe that would feel too traditional and too sentimental, it would remind them both of the time they've lost. This, too, will come in time.

For now, here's Peggy with a razor in hand and Steve sitting in the chair waiting for her and he doesn't have a single complaint. ]

'm ready.

[ she trades the razor for the shaving brush. if he's going to be so adamantly difficult, then she supposes she can deliver some difficulty of her own. they've danced around their own bodies for days, now. weeks. she douses the shaving brush in the little tin holding a dried up bar of soap and, with wet bristles, coaxes foam and suds to life. then—pressing her outer thigh against his—she leans in to paint a thick line of shaving cream down his cheek. a dollop drops on his shoulder. she doesn't stoop to clean it. ]

You're ridiculous, you know.

[ she murmurs as she works. lathering him up. painting him with suds. prepping him. ]

[ she's close. He had planned for this, but somehow her proximity catches unprepared. It's a swift, elegant move and then she's right there and he can feel the warmth where her thigh touches his. The contact makes him look up before remembering that she's working on his face. he clears his throat. ]

Sorry.

[ he looks ahead again, sitting still. behaving. ]

You were saying?

[ she was saying that he's ridiculous. peggy crooks her finger and nudges his head to the side, revealing a length of bare neck that she soon lathers. ]

So eager to play the common man. The every-fellow.

[ peggy upbraids him even as she dotes on him. it's a singular superpower, and one that she didn't need a serum to gain. ]

But right now you're no better than Howard Stark. I imagine Mister Jarvis does his shaving, too.

That's not the same.

[ for once, he's pretty sure Howard Stark isn't interested in his butler in any way. Steve's agenda is entirely different. He wants Peggy, not an easy time cleaning his face every few days. ]

You're describing a force of habit. It's not like that. You're teaching me. You're doing a damn good job, too.

[ he smiles, knowing she watches him. ]

It's just this once.

[ well, probably. ]

[ she gives his one still-dry cheek a light smack with the back of her fingers. corrective, playful, a mixture of the two. hard to say—it's not entirely kind and it's not entirely good but it's also not entirely terrible either. she knows it even as she does it. ]

Sod off. I've hardly started. So flattery isn't welcome.

[ yet. she soothes the place she smacked with a long painted line of shaving cream, and then another, and a third, before tossing the brush in the sink. it bobs there. ]

[ he has to fight many urges. to grab hold of her fingers, of her knee, to laugh happily at her objection and her momentarily ire, to sit still until she's finished. ]

So far, so good.

[ he insists. Once she's done with the first step, he dares to angle his head to look at her. ]

Next time, I think I'll be okay on my own.

[ he thinks. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject