Rosalie Kasten is out of luck and out of time. For the last two years, she's been living on borrowed time. After her involvement with the death of Edwin Pierce - Alexander Pierce's son - it's only a matter of time before Hydra comes for her.
James...
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𝐑𝛐𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝛐𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝛐𝐫𝐞 than to sleep. James is carefully washing her body with a piece of cloth. A whine leaves her every time he puts pressure on her skin. Everything is so sensitive, and she can barely take it. Steve is half asleep to the side, letting the hot water reach the deepest parts of his tense muscles and slowly relax him.
"You gotta let me use some pressure. Otherwise, it's gonna take hours," he grumbles, and she gives another whine, resting her forehead on his chest. "Use your words."
"Just let me sleep," she sighs and slings her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
"Come on, girl's gotta get her rest," Steve sighs deeply and slips further into the bubbles on top of the water. Most of them are gone by now, but he was the one who insisted on it. Rosalie slowly opens her eyes and winces, looking up at Bucky.
"We have to change the sheets too, don't we?"
"We should."
Her head rolls to Steve with a pleading expression on her face.
"Steeeeve..." She says in a velvety voice, and his eyes open again.
"I thought I was supposed to be a guest."
James rolls his eyes.
"I'll do it."
Rosalie chuckles and lets her head fall forward again, letting him clean her off.
"I was wonderin'..." Steve starts, and she whimpers. A good sentence from him has never started like that, and she still can't keep a single sound from spilling. "Do you two really hate each other?"
"Yes," she immediately replies. "Sex doesn't mean I like him." James stops his movement, and she feels his body tense up against hers. This might be a good time to remind him how things work between them. "This is just until we're done with the job."
"Buck?"
She imagines them having another silent conversation with their eyes as a few seconds pass. His body does give little jerks to suggest movements but right now she doesn't care enough to look up at them. Rosalie is sure of her own stance, she hates him because she has to. Letting him close to her isn't an option, and she doesn't think she can bear to get close to him. Nothing ever lasts, it never has when it was around her, and she can't have more things ripped away from her.
And he's an ass. Of course, he's an ass.
"Yeah, it's not like that," James grumbles and opens a bottle of soap, she can feel his flesh arm resting on her shoulder and soon his fingers are massaging her scalp. Soft sighs and moans fall from her lips. She still can't keep it in. It's a little embarrassing.
