#requests wanted

He stopped accepting your apologies a while ago, slowing him down was never your intention but you will be endlessly in debt to him for saving you from the lab you were raised in. You don’t know the full story and you never asked, but you will never forget the sight of him opening the door to your cell, dripping wet and bleeding from the forehead grabbing your hand in the gentlest grip you’ve ever felt and taking you away.

He keeps you safe, protects you even when it puts him in danger, and he keeps you with him even though you know it would be easier for him to set you up somewhere where nobody can reach you and leave to be on his own. Maybe that’s all you need to know. 

The safe house isn’t very much of a house at all. Looks more like an old military outpost from a war fought a long time ago. It keeps the cold out, though which is what the two of you need at the moment. It’s routine at this point, he goes inside and looks from room to room, his gun drawn but facing down and when he deems it safe, he knocks twice on the door letting you know to come in. Then the two of you get to work, sifting through whatever drawers or cabinets there are, looking for food you can eat, clothes you can take or change into and if there's running water or electricity. Luckily for you both this outpost looks fully stocked with rations and there's even a tankless water heater that's still running. It will be nice, you decide, however long the two of you stay it will be nice while you're here.

You put together a quick meal and hand his to him sitting down on the dusty couch centered in the largest room, facing the fire that he made and taking a deep breath.

He nods to you in gratefulness for the meal but slides to the furthest end of the couch from you his shoulders are hunched in and he's avoiding eye contact. It would be annoying if it didn’t break your heart first.

You scoff and move to close the distance once more, maintaining some space but not letting him get away with whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” you don’t raise your voice and you don’t even look at him, “I am not afraid of you. In fact, it's very much the opposite; I feel safe when you’re here.” At that part you try to catch his eye, in a desperate attempt to convince him of your truth. You feel safe with him, a safety you’ve never truly felt before. 

He chuckles wryly but doesn’t move to pull away again, you’ll take the small victory you suppose but add this moment into the collection of similar ones that fuel the spark you have for him. He cares abut you, even if he won’t say it. You just wish you knew how much. Does he care for you like you care for him? Or does he feel obligated to keep you here? Does he pity you? You don’t think you could handle it if he pited you. 

“It’s good- uh.” He stumbles over his words and you eyes shoot up out of your own bowl and land on his, “the food, it’s good, you’re good.” He nods once decisively and then stands, taking his bowl to the sink and rinsing it. 

“Well it’s the least I can do,” you reply “You do pretty much everything else, so if throwing together something to eat will help I’m glad to do it.”

“Don’t do that.” He admonishes, “You do plenty, and it’s my job to protect you.”

“Your job?” You don’t do a good job disguising the hurt in your voice. At least you have your answer now. You stand with your own bowl moving to push past him and into the kitchen.

“No- I shit. I’m not good at this stuff just,” He grabs your arm to keep you from going too far, not harshly you don’t think he’s capable of being harsh with you and up until now you thought that meant something. “You’re not a job, that came out wrong.”

“Good to know,” you nod and move to pull away again.

He groans and runs his hand through his hair. 

“I want you okay?” His tone is desperate and his words free you where you stand. “I don’t know a lot of things, I don’t know where I came from or who I really am, what my favorite color is or- or- anything but I do know that I want you. I want you safe, next to me at all times, I want to see you smile and I want to sit next to you and I want to hold you and it scares me.” His breathing is ragged and his shoulders echo the motion.

The silence in this moment is not comfortable, it feels taught like one move from either of you could snap it. 

“I think that's the most words I’ve ever heard you say at one time.” You reply, not fully comprehending the words you say just noting the way they seem to put him at ease. His shoulders drop along with his head, his hair falling in front of his face. 

“I said I wasn’t good at it.”

“I don’t know I think you did pretty good.” You move to place your hand on his cheek, lifting his head and pulling his hear behind his ear. You tilt your head to get a good look at him and smile. “If you want me even as half as much as I want you it’s going to be a long night.”

His eyes darken immediately; he takes the bowl from your hand and places it down somewhere you don’t care to notice and in a swift movement he pulls your body closer to his, the softness of your form against his hard one making the two of you fit together like a puzzle.

His lips claim yours with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed.