They were stuck in a cycle of not knowing how far to go or when to stop. Both of them had consistently circled around the idea of pushing any further, but stopped out of... what, fear? Shame? It was a dance that had ended abruptly a year earlier, and then continued to that night; a delicate line of wanting to step forward, but give the other enough space to take a step back at the same time.

Matt had pushed, though - perhaps before they were ready. He was the first to make a move; to take that step into cold waters again. It wasn't as if he wanted a face-eating snog if Sveta wasn't looking for something like that, but he'd hoped she would feel similar enough to reciprocate something.

He had given her the space to step back, though; perhaps because he was feeling like he was pushing her, or because she'd expressed her fears about moving forward. Space had been given, and he needed to respect that she'd taken it after all, even if it stung to feel the air shift with her movement. She deserved the choice to push him away again, and he had to accept that.

The thought that immediately plagued his mind was one of their next steps. In the second after she pulled away, a million scenarios flooded his brain - about how she might want to pull away entirely after him pushing too far, or how she might think it best if they moved on from one another. After all, there had never even been 'the two of them' in the first place.

His stomach sank, and he dared not open his eyes, so it came as a shock to him to feel her hands - her bare hands - buried in the tendrils and unruly curls. He opened his eyes for a second, just long enough to see her draw forward before their lips finally met. The thoughts that had weighed so heavily a second before seemed to slide as if on ice; unimportant, unmemorable. His hands saught her waist, pulling her into him like a missing piece of a puzzle.

His head was clear, like stepping from a dream. It was a new form of release that he hadn't allowed himself to have yet.

Maybe he was waiting for this all along.

If Svetlana wanted to be completely honest, she could have admitted that things had been heading this way all along. Who was she kidding? The moment she saw Matt again, memories came flooding back, among them the one time they kissed, more than a year ago. She'd wanted him to kiss her then, and she wanted it now. And maybe, just maybe, this time it was going to be okay.

Matt pulled her closer, and Sveta sighed as she melted against him. The kiss was slow and intense, but she had a hard time keeping her hands still; now that her gloves were off, she reveled in the sensations of touching, touching someone that was safe to touch. She had her hands buried in Matt's hair, enjoying the thick curls, and then her hands brushed his face and his shoulders. Sveta, when she had the rare chance, really tended to make the most of skin to skin contact.

It was a long time before they had to come up for air; by that time she had one leg across his lap, and her hair falling out of the bun onto her shoulders. Sveta caught her breath, resting her forehead against Matt's, not really sure what to say.

Matt didn't quite know what he had expected of that night. Well, really, he'd thrown his expectations out the window when that bodega got robbed, but beyond that, he didn't know what he had hoped would happen with his future with Sveta. He had been thinking of her with bated breath since the last time they'd seen each other, thinking that there was no way that she would ever forgive him for leaving without a trace. After that, well... he hadn't thought that far ahead until very recently.

It felt right to lean in, though - as if the year apart had been a fluke that was being righted by them running into each other again. It felt like kismet; as if the universe was giving them another chance to... well, make out on Matt's couch. And it wasn't like it hadn't been in the cards; from the second he realized that Sveta wasn't going to spend the rest of her life hating him, he had felt drawn, just like before. Just like when he'd thrown caution to the wind and decided that getting kidnapped didn't scare him so much.

Getting kidnapped did scare him, but there were many things in the world that scared him more, and he was willing to take the risk.

He'd forgotten while he was away what it was like for Sveta not to be able to touch anyone else at will. Matt had been subject to a year confined, which meant that there was minimal physical contact at all, much less something gentle, but it wasn't as if he had to worry about brushing hands with someone or running into them accidentally. For Sveta, it was a state of constant vigilance - she couldn't touch anyone else, even if she wanted to.

With Matt, it was different. His heart swelled a little bit at that knowledge - that he was different for her; that he was safe in some way, but he also knew that it wasn't something to take lightly. He could feel the way that she pressed into him; the way that she explored the novelty of intimacy in a way that wasn't a run-of-the-mill experience for her the same way it could be for others.

By the time they drew back for air, Matt had been lost for a few minutes. The world had stopped existing to him, and all that was left was that moment, where Sveta was back with him, and they were together. It wasn't something that he had planned for or expected, but it was the best kind of change.

With their foreheads pressed together, Matt allowed himself to breathe as his heart raced to keep up with what was happening. One hand ran the length of her back gently, while the other rested on the leg that she had strewn across his lap, entangling them in a way he wouldn't dare interrupt.

Sveta said nothing, and for a minute, neither did Matt. Instead, he let his mouth turn into a grin as he met her eyes. "You know, I'm really glad that bodega was robbed," he breathed, letting out a bit of a chuckle. Most of the time, he had no idea what he wanted, but he'd made a snap judgement a few minutes ago, and he'd make it again in a heartbeat. "I really missed you."

God, he wanted to kiss her again.

They broke the kiss, and Matt's arms were still wrapped around her. Sveta felt dizzy, and definitely not from the scotch they had drunk; damn it, if they had a glass or two more, they might not have even stopped what they stared. She made a satisfied humming sound as they both caught their breath. Maybe, for once, things were actually working out.

>>"You know, I'm really glad that bodega was robbed,"

"I am too. But don't say that to your parole officer." Sveta chuckled, running her fingers through his hair again. God, he had great hair.

>>"I really missed you."

"I missed you too." She had. She didn't allow herself to admit it at the time, but now she could at least admit it retroactively. He was here, and she couldn't belie she had been without him, angry at him, for a whole year.

Sveta sighed, moving so that she could straddle his lap and face him. She was sure as hell not going to let him go just yet.

"If we are going to do this" she said slowly, trying to find the right words "We need to stop telling each other to run, okay? We are both adults. If we... if we both want this... we need to find other ways to protect each other."

Intimacy of any kind was something that Matt had sorely missed over the past year, but he didn't expect to find anything like what he had with Sveta for a long time. If at all. They clicked in a way that wasn't typical for him, but he had figured that was all behind him. He'd screwed it all up, and there was no use working to try to get any of it back.

And yet, there they were, sitting on his couch while she straddled him. It was such an easy movement, but it was one that was so gratifying, like an official acceptance. Matt didn't really know why he needed that at all - she'd made it clear that they were on the same page, and yet, he kept expecting her to change her mind after realizing what she was getting herself into again.

But she missed him too, and he couldn't keep pretending like she was the only one who had something to run from. He had reasons to run, too, but he was happy to ignore them all. Same page.

"If we are going to do this, we need to stop telling each other to run, okay? We are both adults. If we... if we both want this... we need to find other ways to protect each other."

Matt nodded slowly, coming to terms with what she was suggesting. No more back doors or sidestepping in the fear that the other might choose to stop things there. No more second-guessing. They needed to take things as they came and deal with them head-on, even if the worst came to pass. And, well, Matt had seen the worst a few times now. He had seen different scenarios and fears that plagued people; that kept them up at night. They both had. They both had a good idea of what to expect from that scenario.

"Okay, no more 'outs'," he said in agreement, making a sort of pact with her. They both understood consent, and there had been enough questioning from both of them to ensure that they both wanted to be there. "So don't go home tonight." The words came out of his mouth before he really knew what he was saying, but he didn't regret them once they were in open air. They were face to face, close enough to easily lean in again, and he would be lying if he said that he wanted anything other than for them to get closer still.

They had definitely come full circle tonight... but it was time for that to stop. They could not keep repeating the same dance of pushing each other out of harm's way. It was safe, but it also kept them apart for way too long. And there was no doubt they both wanted things to go in a different direction this time.

Sveta had straddled Matt to be able to talk to him face to face, but it was dawning on her now that their new position was very distracting.

>>"Okay, no more 'outs'... So don't go home tonight."

"No more outs" she echoed. The rest of his sentence... well. She looked at Matt for a long moment. It was a vague question, but they both knew what it meant. Him, locked away from the world for ten months, and her, cautious since her powers manifested, and missing touch. His touch. On paper, this was a pretty bad idea.

Sveta leaned in, and kissed Matt softly on the lips.

"Do you have a bed in here somewhere, or do you sleep on the couch?"

For a second, she simply stared at him. Had he read the situation wrong? He'd figured that they were on the same page now; wanting to deep dive into what being together meant for them both. But perhaps, he realized, he was too out of touch to recognize what was too far, and to notice that he should allow things to stay where they were rather than pushing for more.

Maybe if she said something.

But then she leaned back in, and his fears were quelled. He leaned in against her, putting his hand behind her neck as he grasped at the loose tendrils of hair.

"Do you have a bed in here somewhere, or do you sleep on the couch?"

Matt grinned despite himself, nodding to the other side of the apartment. "Over there. Sorry, I didn't really prepare for company or anything," he said, knowing that the bed wasn't made or really even presentable. He was trying not to worry about that then, though - he was focused on the fact that Sveta was here, and that she wasn't going anywhere else. He'd let go of everything else to hold her. "It's a good mattress, though."

Matt wrapped his arms around her again, and grinned at her question. It was good to see that look on his face. Sveta ran her fingers along his jaw. She sensed his moment of hesitation after the question, and it was good to see that her answer made him happy.

>>"Over there. Sorry, I didn't really prepare for company or anything... It's a good mattress, though."

"We'll see"Sveta grinned too. She was feeling playful, but also restless; now that they had an unexpected second chance, she wanted to take advantage of it. All of it. She leaned in and kissed Matt again. Moby must have sensed the excitement in the air because he came over, wagging his tail and poking his nose at the two of them. Sveta had to break the kiss to laugh. "Roommates, huh..."

Moby liked to get in the way of things when he wasn't exactly invited to the conversation. Matt let out a small chuckle as he pushed the dog's nose away with an easy hand. "Sorry, Moby. You might have to hang out along tonight," he said gently as he used the moment of movement to maneuver the two of them off the couch and in the direction of the bed.

---

The morning came slowly and quietly, with little light streaming in on a foggy November day. Matt blinked awake, tangled in sheets and with skin pressed against skin. For a second, he had to ground himself; to remind himself of what happened before he'd fallen asleep. It was nothing that he'd expected, but it was the best thing to wake up to.

What light that did come through lit the room in a gentle blue hue, outlining the shapes that covered the bed. He stayed still for a moment, not wanting to disturb anything prematurely. How was it possible that the night before he had thought that there was no chance that Sveta would ever be in his life again?

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he'd been alone in the store when it was robbed, ready to run away from facing her again. He wished that he hadn't had a year between this and the last time he'd seen her, but of all the ways that it could have played out, he wasn't complaining about this.

He stayed there for a few minutes, his head resting on his arm as he watched the way that Sveta breathed in and out, blissfully unaware that the world was going on without her. 

After it had felt like long enough, he carefully extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and bedding to stand on the floor next to the bed. After pulling on a pair of boxers and some sweatpants, Matt began his mission of conquering cooking without waking her up.

It went pretty well at first, but it was only a few minutes before he looked up and realized he must've woken her somewhere along the way.

The night that started with petty robbery had definitely taken a turn for the better. Much better. This had been a long time coming, and once the hesitation was over, both of them had thrown themselves into making up for lost time. It was the early hours of the morning by the time they'd exhausted themselves, but Sveta was still awake a while after, watching Matt in the dim light of the city outside the window. He looked peaceful.

She did eventually sleep, and she slept deeply, comforted by the warmth surrounding her, and the feeling of Matt's skin against hers. By the time she woke up, there was light coming through the windows. She was alone in the bed, which made her make a disappointed little sound before she untangled herself from the sheets. Something smelled like food. Wrapping herself in one of the sheets she padded across the apartment to the kitchen, using one had to comb hair out of her face. She felt the sudden quiet as she entered Matt's aura. Matt seemed to be cooking something, and Moby was following his actions with the rapt attention of a hungry dog. Sveta chuckled at the sight. "So, we are not having carrots for breakfast?"

It was later in the day than Matt usually woke up, but he hadn't wanted to disturb either of them before they woke up regularly. Plus, they had been busy the night before, and the extra sleep was welcome.

Still, he was disappointed to see that he had woken Sveta up before he was finished, as he'd been hoping that he could surprise her just a little. But as she stood up from the bed, only using the bedsheets as a form of getting dressed, he had no regrets whatsoever. He grinned as she walked over and wrapped his free hand around her waist as she joined him in the kitchen. She looked perfectly ruffled by the night before, and perfectly out of place standing in his new little kitchen; like a transplant from a dream into something that felt all too real. Leaning over, he planted a kiss on her forehead to greet her. "Morning."

"So, we are not having carrots for breakfast?"

"Well, I mean, you're welcome to the carrots in the fridge, but I figured pancakes would be more of a breakfast item," he said with a chuckle. He'd at least had the ingredients he needed for pancakes in his limited stock in the fridge. Eggs, milk, and pancake mix were all staples in his pantry. "The first one has to be for Moby, though. He got the short end of the stick last night."

The poor guy had been staring at him with wide eyes since he'd gotten the pan out, and as the first pancake sat on the surface of the pan, the dog inched closer with each passing second. It had gotten to the point where Matt worried he would jump up at any second and tip the pan over. For now, though, he was just pressed against Matt's leg with a fair bit of pressure.

"So are you a coffee, tea, or orange juice person in the morning?" he asked, turning back to Sveta as he used his free hand to turn the first pancake over.

Matt seemed a little sheepish about clandestinely cooking breakfast before she was awake. Sveta smiled, bunching the sheets up around her chest to keep them from dragging on the floor. Matt put an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Such a simple gesture, and for once, completely mundane. Sveta felt like she could get used to it.

>>"Well, I mean, you're welcome to the carrots in the fridge, but I figured pancakes would be more of a breakfast item. The first one has to be for Moby, though. He got the short end of the stick last night."

"That's fair" she chuckled. Matt continued working on the pancakes with his free hand as she leaned against him, and Moby leaned against his legs. Someone was going to fall over like this, sooner or later.

>>"So are you a coffee, tea, or orange juice person in the morning?"

"Usually? Painkillers and vodka." Sveta smirked. Just because she'd spent one night didn't mean she was now an un-messed-up person. "And I normally make my own caffeine, remember?... Orange juice is fine." she added with a chuckle "How about you?"

The first pancake was sufficiently browned on both sides, which meant that it was good enough to hand over to Moby. Of course, he would have eaten it no matter how it turned out, but Matt liked to think the dog had a few standards, at least. He flipped it off the edge of the pan and grabbed it gingerly with two fingers before handing it unceremoniously to the dog, who wolfed it down in a matter of seconds. Matt REALLY needed to buy dog food.

There were two people in the apartment with odd breakfast routines, it seemed. He knew in his head that Sveta lived a hard life, but he didn’t always connect the two dots very well. He blinked for a moment at her mention of “painkillers and vodka” (he was, of course, slightly turned on by her pronunciation of “vodka”, but that was besides the point), but he brushed it off. He didn’t know what it was like to live with her mutation, and he also knew he had no place to judge any of her choices. Plus, there was little she could say at that point that would deter him any.

“Sorry, I’m all out of vodka, but the painkillers are in the cabinet beside the microwave, and the orange juice is in the fridge. I would offer to grab it, but I’m going to be busy flipping pancakes,” he said with a sly grin as he poured more batter into the pan, careful that it formed a neat circle.

One thing he had missed especially in prison was good coffee. They had coffee in there, sure, but it was designed to worsen your experience more than anything else, really. It smelled like coffee. It looked like coffee. It tasted like the underside of a shoe. Another dead end in threat trap of the American justice system. As soon as he was out, Matt had stocked up on his favourite brands and made cup after cup of the stuff until his mouth burned and it no longer tasted like anything anymore.

“Always coffee for me. We can’t all make our own caffeine, unfortunately. Some of us have dependencies instead.”

The pancake had begun to bubble along the edges, so he picked up the pan in one hand and nudged it so the pancake would slide up the edge and flip to the uncooked side. He did his best to catch it, and did so with middling success. It landed in the centre of the pan and slid just a little so the face would be lopsided. Still cool, in his opinion.

Acting like it was no big deal as he set the pan back down on the burner, Matt turned back to Sveta. “So what does your day look like now?”

One of the reasons why it was good to be around Matt: Sveta did not have to pretend to be perfect.

>>“Sorry, I’m all out of vodka, but the painkillers are in the cabinet beside the microwave, and the orange juice is in the fridge. I would offer to grab it, but I’m going to be busy flipping pancakes,”

Sveta chuckled and detached herself from Matt's side while he fed the dog. She walked over to the fridge, fished out the orange juice, and poured herself a glass. No painkillers needed. It was a pretty good morning so far.

>>“Always coffee for me. We can’t all make our own caffeine, unfortunately. Some of us have dependencies instead.”

"Are you one of those barista types that hand-makes his own coffee?" she chuckled, returning to lean against the counter. The pancake was already gone - Moby must have been hungry. The next one was on the way, even if a little sloppy. It was fun to watch a man cook for her. It had been a while.

>>“So what does your day look like now?”

"Good so far" Sveta grinned, sipping the orange juice "I'll have to go in to work eventually, unless I call in sick. How about yours?"

It was nice to have dropped the pretence around one another... not that they had exactly started with much at all. Their first meeting had involved a lot of drinking and going into the darkest parts of themselves, and Matt could safely say that Sveta knew more about him than some of his family members.

Still, that morning, he got the idea that Sveta didn't feel like she needed to pretend or put on any sort of mask. There was nothing between them - almost literally.

"Are you one of those barista types that hand-makes his own coffee?"

"What, don't tell me that you're gonna shoot down a french press?" he scoffed with a smirk. "I'm a bartender. I make my living by mixing good drinks, and I'm sure as hell not going to draw the line at good coffee." Besides, a french press was the best way to make coffee for one person at a time, and that was usually his situation. There was no use in brewing a whole pot to let half of it go to waste.

They had successfully wasted the morning in the best way, which meant that there was still the rest of the day left to figure out. Matt wouldn't have minded if Sveta had said that she wanted to leave, since he knew she had a life to get back to, but he had to admit that it was nice to be there like that. There was a beautiful stranger wrapped in his bedsheets standing in his kitchen, and he wouldn't complain if nothing interrupted that.

"I'm supposed to work tonight, but that's not until much later, and besides... I've heard there's a flu going around or something," he said with a wink. "Now, how do you like your pancakes?"

The one he was working on was just about done, so he slid it onto a plate next to the stove before getting to work on the next one.