"No, it's um," Jane breathes, the warmth of Thor's hands at her back and cheek making it incredibly difficult to focus on anything of lesser importance, like forming coherent sentences. "This is good. This is better."

Even stooped down he's far too tall for her, and Jane tugs down on his shirt as she lifts onto her tiptoes so that she can press another unabashed kiss to his mouth. Until this moment, she'd not realized how desperately she was in need of something that made sense. The island had yanked all of her safety nets clean away the moment she'd arrived, and she's been floundering in trying to find her feet. Not even science, her life's single constant, makes any kind of sense in this place. But Thor's mouth is warm and his hands are strong but gentle, and there's familiarity and comfort in that instead.