This will be my first multi-chapter fic. I'm not completely sure where the story is going to take me yet, but I have some ideas! I also haven't decided if I'm going to end up adding any smut into this or not, it might just end up being pure fluff and angst, but if I do, the rating will definitely go up. Please favorite, follow, leave a comment, constructive criticism, anything! I would love to hear what you guys think about this!

Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers have been friends forever. They practically grew up together, them, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Pepper Potts, Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster, the Maximoff twins, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson (Thor's brother), Bruce Banner, and Clint Barton. They'd been through elementary school together, they had their middle school promotion together, they'd been to every one of each other's birthday's (even when it was supposed to be just family celebrating), and they'd been through high school graduation together. So why was the thought of going off to college making Steve's stomach churn? It's not like they were all going different places, they had all chosen to go to Marvel University, and even if they weren't rooming together, they were all going to be living on the same floor in the dorm. Everything would be fine. They would still have their typical Friday nights at Benny's pizza, the guys would still get together to watch the football games (despite Steve being a Patriots fan and everyone else being anything but that), and he was sure that the girls would still come and bother them while they were trying to watch it. He just couldn't shake this feeling that his life was about to change a whole lot more drastically than he was bargaining for.

When move in day came, he was excited. He was going to be living with Bucky this year, who was undoubtably his best friend, so he knew they would have a good time. Tony had opted to live with Bruce (no surprise there, they were always doing experiments, and Steve didn't think that anyone else could manage to live with Tony without killing him), Thor and Loki would be rooming together (which was good because Thor could put up with all of Loki's quirks), and Pietro and Clint would be living together (which was a terrible idea as far as Steve was concerned, not for them, but for everyone else. They were always up to something). Steve finished unpacking his stuff and yelled across the living room to Bucky's room that he was going to go and check on the girls to see if they needed any help. Thankfully, they were just right down the hall. Steve stopped by Maria and Pepper's room first, but they were bickering over some odd lamp that Pepper wanted to put in the room that she said would, "make the feng shui so much better," but Maria thought that it was ugly and that said it resembled a penis. Steve decided it was best to stay out of that conversation and moved down the hall to Darcy and Jane's room. They were both coming along pretty well (and he knew that Thor would be by later to help Jane), so he went to the final room in the hall, Natasha and Wanda's.

Before he even entered the room, he could hear their music playing. Natasha was always listening to old rock and he was certain that he could pick out her voice over the track. He chuckled to himself as he knocked.

"It's open," he heard above the music. When he let himself in he burst out laughing at the sight of Natasha jumping on the couch playing air guitar, throwing her hair around, and belting out the lyrics. "Well, Rogers, are you going to just stand there or are you going to help me crush this solo?" Natasha asked as she stopped bouncing and lifted an eyebrow at him. Steve smiled and sighed, taking his jacket off and throwing it onto her kitchen counter. Natasha smiled in victory and went back to what she was doing. The two of them bounced up and down on the couch, air guitar's blazing for the rest of the song and well into the next before they dropped down on the couch both exhausted and laughing.

"I have to say, Nat, you play a mean air guitar," Steve said breathlessly as he wiped the slight perspiration from his forehead.

Natasha laughed in response, "well, you see, it takes years of dedication and practice. Don't worry," she continued, patting him on the leg, "we'll get you there." He let out a hearty laugh. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here, shouldn't you be unpacking?" She asked turning to face him.

"I'm already done," he said with a shrug. "I thought that I would come and see if you needed some help, which obviously you do." His eyes moved over to her bedroom door where he could clearly see the explosion of clothes and boxes all around the room. He lifted an eyebrow up at her, "Nat, have you done any unpacking?"

"No, she hasn't," came a voice from the other bedroom. Wanda appeared at her doorway, a small box in her hands, "She's been jumping on that couch for the last hour. Thank God you're here, I've tried to explain to her that she can't just sleep on top of all of her clothes for a week until she feels like finally putting them away, but every time that I would try to tell her that, she would turn the music up louder and just keep dancing."

Steve turned to Natasha, a look of mock shock on his face, "No, it couldn't be! Natasha Romanoff? Not wanting to listen to something someone tells them?" He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. Natasha reached over a hit him on the arm causing Steve to laugh. "Don't worry Wanda, the show is over, I'll help our resident rock star get unpacking."

"Thank God," Wanda said, clearly exasperated before she turned back into her room to continue unpacking.

Steve stood up and reached a hand out for Natasha. She gladly took it and pulled him with her to her room.

A couple hours had passed, but Steve felt like they still had hardly gotten anything accomplished. There were still boxes everywhere, though they had gotten most of her clothes put away. Granted, the fact that they kept getting distracted definitely didn't help. Steve bent down to pick up a box when he felt a sharp crack on his butt. He quickly bolted upright and turned around to Natasha who was wearing a shit-eating grin on her face, one of her bath towels swinging in her hand.

"You did not just do that," Steve said narrowing his eyes at her.

Natasha kept swinging the towel in her hand, eyebrow raised in challenge, "and what are you going to do about it, Rogers?" She began to wring the towel up in her hand to hit him again.

"You don't want to do that Romanoff," he warned.

"Mmmm, don't I?" She teased. When she whipped the towel out at him, he grabbed it, expertly twisting it around his hand and pulling it in towards his body. He tried to pull it away from her, but in doing so, he tripped over one of the boxes, sending them both toppling onto the bed. When they landed, Natasha was underneath him, both of their hands still tied in the towel between them, and their faces inches apart. They both stayed there for a minute, heart rates increased, staring into each other's eyes. Steve couldn't help but think about how beautiful she looked, her firey red hair splayed out underneath her, the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks, even the glint of mischief in her eye. Everything about her was breath taking. When he finally pulled himself out of her trance, he rolled over to the side, letting out a breathy laugh.

"I did tell you that you didn't want to do that," he jokingly scolded, turning his head to look at her.

She gave him a sly smile, "I don't know, I didn't mind it so much." Steve tried to swallow, but his mouth seemed to suddenly run dry. This wasn't something unusual, they always flirted with one another, but that didn't mean that it didn't make his heart race or his palms feel sweaty or his mouth run dry whenever they did. I mean, it was normal for them. They did this all the time. It didn't mean anything. They've done this since middle school, it's just harmless flirting, right? He tried not to think on it as he propped himself up on his elbows looking at her moving around the room.

"What do you say we take a break and go grab some food. My treat," He suggested. The only thing that he was more aware of than trying to calm his racing heart down was his stomach threatening to growl. He hadn't eaten all day and it was beginning to get to him.

"Do I get to pick the place?" Natasha replied, not turning around from placing items on her desk.

"Of course. Chinese?" He asked.

"Oh Rogers," Natasha said turning around, a smile on her face, "you know me so well."

He smiled back at her. That he did.