Fancy date (M)
*****
“We’ve never gone out on a date.”
“Oh? Does our luncheon at the cafe today not qualify?”
Wanda’s fingers traced the crease of his hip, skirting close to where he always wanted her, but even a synthezoid’s body needed a bit of rest after so many rounds of lovemaking tonight. Her nails – their chipped green polish endlessly endearing – skittered along the delicate skin, making him shiver, then moved up to rest on his abdomen. “No, I mean a real date. Y’know, dressing up, a fancy restaurant, all that silly stuff.”
“Ah, yes.” Vision considered reminding her of the inherent risks of such an outing under the circumstances, but that would dampen the mood that he’d worked so hard all day (most of it spent here in bed after their lunch) to change from her customary low thrum of depression into her current wistful satiation. “Well, perhaps we can attempt a proper date during our next encounter.”
Her response was to shift her body atop his, covering him like a blanket from head to toes – well, shins, given their height differential. Wanda’s face was so close to his that all he could see was her, and he loved it. Loved her. Even if he had not yet said it aloud, he suspected she knew. For the next few minutes, they whispered ideas for such an outing, until their libidos spoke louder than their words. Soon, he was inside her, and oh, she was inside every part of him. Although the date was forgotten for the rest of the night, the idea of it found a home in the recesses of his mind, like a peppermint candy tucked into his cheek.
*****
Upon returning home to upstate New York, Vision began to seriously consider the possibilities for such a date that included dressing up, a fancy restaurant, all that stuff. In the early months of their acquaintance, he recalled her chatting about movies she enjoyed, with a particular affinity for Pretty Woman. While the movie’s premise certainly did not apply to their relationship, perhaps he could provide her with a similar experience. Well, part of it, at least. Via the encrypted messaging apps they used for communication, he learned that she and her rogue colleagues would be in Budapest at the end of February, three weeks from now. Enough time to plan the perfect date.
First, he browsed online for hotel rooms. Cpt. Rogers was not at all fond of Wanda leaving their cadre during her and Vision’s stolen visits, but he had stopped overtly complaining a while ago. Vision’s own bank account balance had dipped a bit too low for comfort, especially after the purchase of the plot of land, but Wanda deserved the best; if need be, he could later replenish it through means that were a bit complicated for his ethical code but still above-board. Fortunately, even the high-end lodging in Budapest was much more budget-friendly than in the other cities where they’d reunited. The downside was that, by the looks of their websites, they were too sleek and modern for his personal style. An hour of searching concluded with him booking two nights in a hotel that boasted “old world charm” and a vaguely baroque interior design. Excellent.
In the movie, the characters attended an opera; however, Vision suspected that was not his beloved’s taste. Still, the notion of them strolling through the lobby of Budapest’s grand opera house was immensely appealing. Aha – the Hungarian National Ballet would be performing Swan Lake on the night of their visit. A bit of a cliche, maybe, but he purchased them a private box in the grand tier nonetheless.
Then, of course, there was The Dress. Further research indicated that tuxedos and evening gowns were no longer de rigeur at the opera house. Pity. Phasing into a dark suit and tie would be simple enough for him. And for Wanda, he scanned the websites of apparel stores that had been on the labels of her clothing when she’d also lived here (and then later when he’d undressed her.) Within minutes, he’d found the perfect dress for their date, along with undergarments for, well, both their enjoyment.
Now all that was left was to wait and anticipate.
*****
He arrived at the Hotel Regalia to find Wanda awaiting him just inside the lobby, still wrapped in the huge knit hat and scarf up nearly to her nose that she used as a disguise. Adorable, as always. With his thumb, he lowered it enough for a quick kiss that promised more later, then they ventured inside to check in. Each time he took her to a hotel like this, her eyes would open wide as if astonished by the grandeur, even though this particular hotel was slightly less posh than he’d prefer. But, of course, only the best – or the best available – for his queen.e
Vision had planned a whole reveal of his date night plans, going so far as to mentally script the scene, which he rehearsed as he’d flown himself over. However, upon entering the room, the script was promptly forgotten by the sight of the large bed. Soon, they were naked and wrapped around one another – or, rather, Wanda’s mouth wrapped around his length. She devoured him with a hunger born of far too long apart. If he weren’t already certain of his love for her, the way she gazed up at him as her mouth began to suck would’ve made him declare undying fealty. When he came, she made a show of swallowing then crawled up his body, breasts pressed into his chest, and murmured, “So delicious,” which instantly made him hard again. Soon, she rose and fell atop him, coaxing him closer to a second peak, while one of his hands pinched her nipples and the other slipped between her folds. Amidst the haze of lust, he considered tossing aside the plans for tonight and instead spending their holiday in bed.
Ninety minutes and a highly enjoyable joint shower later, she performed her post-bathing ablutions in the bathroom while he checked that the items he’d ordered and shipped there had been delivered to their room. Yes. Perfect.
“So, want to go grab some dinner then come back here for another round?” she asked as she returned to the bedroom, but her words were cut short by the sight of him standing at attention, a large white box in his hands. “Um, what’s that?”
Time for the speech. “You requested a proper date night, and I am more than happy to oblige. I’ve booked us a table at a Michelin-starred restaurant specializing in Hungarian food, with several menu items that are also customary in Sokovia. Afterward, we have tickets to the Hungarian State Ballet performing Swan Lake.” Her mouth opened in surprise, and he stepped forward, presenting the box. “Since the dress code is semi-formal, I bought you a dress that should do quite nicely.”
Speechless, she set the box on the bed and opened it, revealing the red dress and matching bra and underwear. Vision tried not to preen a bit at the delight that spread over her face. Then, as was her custom, she seemed to snap back to herself and muttered, “All this was too much. You shouldn’t have.”
“Nonsense. Besides, the attire, hotel, and tickets were surprisingly affordable. Even if they did cost a fortune, you would still deserve them.”
“I know, but….” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“Always, darling.” Ah, Wanda was finally beginning to heed his advice. Back in the early days of their romance, he’d gently pointed out her tendency to deflect to self-deprecation when presented with kind deeds, as if she weren’t worth all that and more. She still often protested his gestures; her negative mindset was far too deep-seeded to be easily sloughed away. But she was getting better, and he knew that his gifts meant the world to her.
“Shall I leave you to get dressed?”
Worry slid off her mien, replaced by the hint of a wicked grin. “Why don’t you put it on me?”
Who was he to decline such an offer?
The robe fell to the floor, leaving her in all her naked glory. Kneeling before her, Vision held out the panties for her to step into, then drew them up her legs. One of his, he’d admit, favorite parts of her anatomy was now covered in scarlet lace, which he kissed as she placed a palm on his head to hold him there for a moment. “As much as I’d love to rip these off with my teeth,” he murmured, and her answer was startled laughter, “our dinner reservations are in an hour.”
Standing up, he tried to put on her bra, but he still hadn’t gotten the hang of the hook closures; unfastening them was more in line with his talents. She laughed again and said she’d do it herself. As she did so, he withdrew the red dress from the box, relieved that the fabric had not become creased in transit. Wanda held up her arms, and he slipped it over her head and settled it on her shoulders, letting the satin cascade down her body like a red waterfall.
Taking a step back, he made a show of looking her up and down. “Perfect.” And yes, she was.
While she put on the accompanying silver heels, he phased into a charcoal suit, white shirt, and dark red tie. Of course he’d also need to don his human disguise, but that could wait a bit. The next half-hour was spent with her in the bathroom, taking care of hair and makeup. She complained that she didn’t have anything besides lipstick, but Vision had not thought that far. Still, he assured her that she did not need any, which was met with a raised eyebrow but no protests.
As they prepared to leave, she piped up, “Hey, Vis? You do realize that it’s February, right? My parka is not exactly the kind of thing you wear on a fancy date.”
“Already thought of that.” He opened the last box and pulled out a knee-length faux leather coat. “It might not provide enough warmth in this weather, but we won’t be outdoors for too long. Plus, this seemed more your style.”
Wanda’s lips spread into a beautiful smile, the likes of which he witnessed far too seldom. She blurted out, “I love you,” then blinked, as if surprised to have said it. They’d only confessed such sentiments a handful of times over the past seventeen months, but each time felt like a life changing revelation. And it was.
“I love you too, darling.”
*****
There was something rather magical about being out in public with Wanda Maximoff, even if neither of them was presenting as their true self. Heads turned as the maitre d’ led them to their table, but none of the other patrons’ gazes held long, which was a relief given the serious concerns of exposure. As on the other few times they’d gone out together, her fear eventually gave way to a low thrum of worry, though she seemed somewhat more comfortable than before. The initial worldwide furore over the so-called “Rogue Avengers” had faded over time, and the notion that two of them (in this situation, Vision could consider himself an affiliate, if not a rogue as well) would be at a Budapest restaurant was odd enough that he doubted anyone would be on the lookout for them. Still, he was relieved that they were shown to a table in a dark corner.
Upon perusing the menu, Wanda teased him by pointing out paprikash, but chose a traditional Hungarian beef dish instead. He selected a cheese plate and soup that was easy to pretend to consume, though he did take a few bites without adverse physiological effects. Throughout the meal, Wanda would occasionally glance around then back at him as if astonished that they were actually doing this. “It’s very real, my love,” he assured her.
“Yeah, pretty good start to our date night.”
Indeed it was.
*****
The ballet was lovely, of course, though the best part was watching Wanda’s reactions. Not that she appeared awed by the artistry itself – she showed a genuine but not excessive appreciation – but rather how she seemed so relaxed and delighted simply to be out in public, doing something that she told him at intermission was “So fancy. Wow.”
Still, they mostly kept to themselves, instead of risking the possibility of exposure, however remote he believed that to be. When they did depart their box seats at the end of the performance, Vision felt like he was floating – no phasing involved – as he accompanied her down the Opera House’s grand staircase. They were surrounded by gilt and neo-Renaissance flourishes, like something out of a grand old movie. And on his arm was the most beautiful woman in the world.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Wanda suddenly stopped. “We need a photo.”
Vision paused. “Is that a good idea?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t care if it’s a bad idea. I just want a pic to remember tonight.”
How could he deny her that, risks be damned?
He approached an usher, whose bored demeanor suggested a lack of interest in the patrons. Activating his mental translator, Vision asked, “Lefényképeznéd?” (Quite a fascinating language, Hungarian, to distill a full question into a single word.) His accent was apparently somewhat correct, because the young man shrugged and took Wanda’s burner phone. The two of them posed at the foot of the ornate, red carpeted stairs, their arms around each other’s waist. And their smiles were entirely genuine.
Along the brief walk back to the hotel, Wanda stared at the photo as if it were the most amazing thing she had ever seen. He squeezed her hand and said, “We do make quite a dashing couple, yes?”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him, absolutely glowing.
He’d love to be able to keep a copy of the photo on his own phone, but, again, too much of a risk. Perhaps once the Accords were repealed – and he held onto perhaps-blind faith that someday they would be – he could print the photograph and hang it on his wall, for all the world to see. Until then, he would happily live in this memory, and even without Wanda’s smile, he knew she felt the same.
Hand in hand, the two of them made their way down the enchanting Budapest streets to the hotel where they would make love and sleep and wake up together tomorrow, pretending it could last forever.
“Thanks for my fancy date, Vis.”
He leaned down for a kiss. “Always, darling.”
*****