Ian Cuckoo used empathy [...] IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE (lamepowerheart) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-08-13 01:17:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ian cuckoo, yoko oyama |
Log; Ace of Hearts and Pilot
Who: Ian Cuckoo and Yoko Oyama
When: Sunday, August 11th
Where: Yoko’s Apartment
What: Feelings
Yoko had called and told him she needed him. That was the part that had him knocking on her door, in the end. Dull as it was, the want to help was still there, and when she called, he doubted he could say no, even if his heart didn’t keep having echoes of his emotions. She was upset, with Terrence dead, was worried about her friends, about him, and she needed him. She needed the old him. He knocked quickly, trying to keep a hold on the faint ghost of concern that rattled in his chest. “Yoko?” he called. “It’s me. Let me in.” The assassin hadn’t known how soon Ian would come or how it would go, but she’d taken time to think about things. With Terrence’s death - the first loss in so many years that broke her heart - she’d had so much to think about, to reflect upon. And knowing now that the agents’ lives were certainly at risk, it wasn’t such a far stretch to think that their loved ones and family would be in danger too. She couldn’t have this. She couldn’t lose him. She loved Ian and wanted to protect him. But there was something else she had to do first. With her implant powered up, she’d called him. If he knew what she was going to do, she had few doubts his heart would brace itself somehow. Yoko didn’t even know if what she was planning would even work, but at this point she was desperate. “Hi.” She slid the door open, stepping aside to let him in. Dressed in a simple bathrobe, she folded her arms across her chest, withdrawn and sad, but happy to see him. “Thank you for coming. I hope I didn’t worry you too much.” In another state, the bathrobe might have tripped something in Ian’s mind to make him question, to at least make him wonder what was underneath. His mind, under normal circumstances, would’ve gone to places that were hardly respectful of her grief. Perhaps, in that moment, it was better he couldn’t let his mind wander in those directions. “Anytime. Always.” He said flatly, his voice steady and empty, but the words composed in that brief moment when he’d felt. He cleared his throat. “I know you were getting close with him. I apologize for your loss.” He reached out and stroked her cheek gently. Asking how she was doing would have been trite. Of course she wasn’t doing well, he knew that, even if he couldn’t read her in that moment. He just wished he could help, somehow. Yoko leaned into his touch. The gesture was unusual given the last few months, but she welcomed it. For a moment, it stripped away the grief and the fury, reminding her that, even in small increments, his acts of love still had impact. She held his gaze, a small smile emerging, silently thanking him. “It’s...made me realize a few things. I think we need to talk. You should...” nervous, a moment, but it was brief, “...have a seat.” Her smile was nice. That was a good sign. He had to hold onto that, he knew. The good moments seemed so few and far in-between, nowadays. Holding onto them was all he could do. “What kind of things?” he asked, withdrawing his hand slowly as his brow furrowed. That didn’t sound good. A part of him jumped to the easiest conclusion: this was it. She realized she didn’t need him, not when he was broken like this, but that didn’t compute with her calling him here to comfort her. He nodded, and sat down on the loveseat in her living room, watching carefully. Her eyes followed him as he sat, his own gaze inquiring. It was rare she felt her heart racing in her chest, but she was about to try to chip off the last bits of his diamond with emotions when emotions were not her strength. But this was it. She wasn’t going back now. “Not bad things.” She assured him softly as she moved stand in front of him. “If you wouldn’t mind closing your eyes.” It took a moment, but when he complied, she delicately undid the ribbon of her robe, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath it she’d donned some very provocative lingerie: a red halter bra, matching panties, and transparent, black stockings and garters. It wasn’t a catsuit and it wasn’t sparkly pasties and matching thong, but it was a good medium. As she’d done so many times before, she slid onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips, her thumbs lightly pressed to his eyelids. “You’ll keep them closed? I need you to trust me.” Her hands moved to his shoulders. “You can feel me if you’d like. Here. Or,” her implant powered down, “more importantly, here. I know you’re confused, possibly suspicious, and I know you can’t accept a compliment to save your life. But think of this as a really long compliment. One I’m not giving you any choice but to hear. Losing Terrence, being reminded of how fleeting life can be for those you care about as well as those you never knew...I know you know how I feel. But you don’t feel it. I want to change that.” She released an anxious breath. “So, will you trust me?” Ian obeyed immediately, his eyes closed long before the robe fell to the floor. He heard it, and vaguely processed that the sound was significant, but it didn’t click even as she moved to sit in his lap. “Of course I trust you,” he said, voice firm and absolute -- though his brow arched as his hands moved to her hips and felt something decidedly not like normal, proper clothes. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure almost immediately that she wasn’t wearing pants, and he swallowed. That was unexpected. “Confused, yes. Not suspicious and... okay.” He swallowed again. Better not to fight her on the compliment point, not least of all because he suspected it might just be true. “I trust you,” he repeated. “Completely.” Yoko bit her lip as his hands began to wander and stop. She could only imagine what was going through his mind, but it didn’t stop the smirk from forming. Months ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing this, not when he felt so much like a stranger. Now felt so much like before that. “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed him. After all of the shenanigans with the other SHIELD agents and repeatedly being told she wasn’t trusted or even worthy of trust, it reminded her of whose trust mattered most. “It’s not the first time we’ve been like this. Sometimes I think back to that night in your office. Mostly in embarrassment, but I liked where it was going before then.” She smiled, shrugged. “I think if walls could talk, your office would have some interesting things to say. The first time we ever talked in person was in that room. Do you remember? I only knew you as the uncannily earnest psychologist.” Kissing was nice. Ian had forgotten that, and after a moment of hesitation, he kissed her back, was almost sad when she pulled away. “Of course I remember,” he said softly. “I only knew you as the dangerous woman Henry kept antagonizing...” He smiled weakly. “My brother was concerned you’d be dangerous. In the end, you stole my heart...” A sigh. His heart was the whole problem, wasn’t it? She heard Ian’s sigh and ran her fingers along the column of his throat in response, a small but comforting gesture. She didn’t want him to dwell; not on that. “Your brother was right, at first. There were a couple times I thought I’d have to threaten you. You were a threat, too, in your own way. Because you listened.” It was strange to be this vulnerable reflecting on these times, but she hoped through her recounting and her memories, he could feel what she felt in those pivotal moments and the impact he made then. She held nothing back as she channeled what she felt. “And you asked questions. I thought maybe it was just the people pleaser in you, and I thought you gave the worst advice. But it turned out to be true, didn’t it. Everything you said that day, it was true. It had been so long since I’d talked to someone, and you didn’t... I still don’t understand it.” The touch to his throat made Ian shiver, then sigh again, his head tipping back to give her more room. The sensation, along with the pressure of her body in his lap, was enough to have some effect on him, but the emotions she brought up as she spoke were what really made his heart skip a beat. “It was the right thing to do,” he whispered, finding it harder to keep his eyes closed as temptation and curiosity started to build. “And it paid off for me, in the end, I think.” He bit his lip as her emotions started to overwhelm him. “You made me happy. You still do, even if I can’t feel it properly.” Having the advantage of seeing how she was making him react, not that she herself was immune to the proximity and their walk down memory lane, Yoko knew now was the time to keep pushing. She shifted closer, her fingers continuing their breezy, gentle movements on his neck. Ian’s own words stirred that fluttery feeling in her chest. If she’d been the one with a diamond heart, there was no question he’d be the one to break her of it. “I know.” She murmured. “I always knew. Hard to believe at first, that there was anything inside of me that you could fall in love with. When I told you I loved you and you said you always knew...” she swallowed tightly, remembering that day, not for what it had followed but for what it created. And again she peeled back the walls in her heart to let him feel what it had felt like, “...I think I realized...it wasn’t killing my mother that gave me a new life. It was you. You became the first home I’d ever known. You believed in me. So now...even if you can’t feel anything properly, I know there’s nothing in this world that would keep me from believing in you, too. Especially when you don’t believe in yourself.” Ian could feel every bit of emotion she was calling up, his heart racing as it washed over him. He remembered that day, remembered that moment, remembered what led up to it and what followed. Hearts and flowers, Emmett had said, like a cartoon character who was head over heels. It seemed so long ago, when things were simpler, but he remembered, still. “I believe in you,” he whispered. “Even if I can’t feel, even without my heart, I believe in you.” The movements of her fingers became a bit more languorous, moving more slowly, the pad of her thumb along a pulse that beat in perfect rhythm. His confidence in her had always astounded, and she could feel herself being swept up in the exchange of their feelings, wanting to kiss him again, wanting to hold him closer and prove to him that his belief in her would never be for nothing. But do you believe in yourself? She wondered. Did he? Had he ever? Yoko finally leaned in to kiss him, this time longer and more reassuring. She stayed close, the fingers at his neck moving to his cheek, the other hand planted firmly on his chest. "We've had so many good times. Very good times..." These words were pressed along his jaw to his ear, the sensual tone hinting. It wasn't fair, what she was trying to do to him, and she delighted in it. It wasn't a secret she loved the raw power he displayed when they had sex, but there was, too, as she'd told Olympia, a more precious connection. "You've always made me feel safe." She murmured. "Desired, but loved. You've protected my heart. You hold me... I love it when you hold me." Ian's breath caught in his chest as her touch grew slower, as her lips slipped along the line of his jaw. The touch, the waves of love, sensation and emotion blending together to sap his strength as his head fell back against the couch, making him take panted breaths. "You deserve to feel safe, to feel loved..." he whispered, finding it more and more difficult to keep his eyes closed. There was a tightness in his chest, almost a burning, pressure building in a way that was almost familiar, and he bit his lip hard as he felt his heart racing, pounding. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. "I love holding you..." It didn’t escape her notice that he said he loved holding her, not that he knew he should love to hold her. She smiled, nipped at a spot on his throat just below his ear, and then soothed it. The hand on his chest felt the racing of his heart - not just a few uncontrolled beats that were subsequently swallowed, but a whole army of them, one after another. “So do you. You deserve everything. My love, your brother’s love, Henry’s and Arianna’s. You’ve changed so many lives; you’ve made so many people happy. You don’t know what you do. How much you matter.” Another nip, this one closer to the pulse on his neck. “How many lives you’ve affected. How much your faith in others has pulled them out of dark places. You weren’t meant to be left behind. And I won’t leave you alone.” She leaned back a fraction, still close enough to feel the heat rising from his skin. “I don’t know what nightmare it was that,” killed was a word she never wanted to think of when it came to him, “caused this, but Ian, whatever it was - you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can let it go. I’m here.” “I’m not afraid,” it was immediate, firm, and absolute and yet... maybe that was half the problem. He felt the pressure in his chest raise, felt his heart pound as if it was fit to burst, and he realized, finally, why it felt so familiar, why he was fighting it. And he realized he could keep fighting, could keep struggling for control, but that control wasn’t the issue. He needed to trust her. He needed to let go. And when he did, he felt the something inside break. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you.” Yoko’s eyes filled with immediate tears, something she’d grown more accustomed to over the last several months, but her grin was wide and euphoric. She laughed elatedly, amazed and shocked and overwhelmed, and she whispered, “There you are.” before she leaned in and kissed him again, holding him close. Her heart did backflips as she embraced him, knowing it was him, in awe that it had worked and scared maybe it wouldn’t last, but so determined to stay with him through it all. He was okay. He was going to be okay. “I love you too.” Ian smiled as he heard her laugh, his hand sliding up to stroke her cheek. He was back. He was him. And he kissed her back with all the love and wanting that had been missing since the attack. He didn’t share her doubts, couldn’t care. The only thing he could think about was how much he missed this, missed all of it, and how much he wanted to hold her close, and never let her go again. “So...” he chuckled, as he broke the kiss but didn’t pull away. “Can I open my eyes?” Yoko furiously wiped away the tears, her smile having melted into a very playful smirk. Hearing him laugh, feeling him in his kiss, how could she not grin in some capacity? “I think...you already know the answer to that question.” |