Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize…

A/N: Don't know why but a few of my stories disappeared from my account so I had to re-post them. So yeah, nothing new. Sorry.

Well, it's Sunday again so here's another smutty McKono story. Just like the one before, this hasn't got too much plot either but that wasn't the point after all, right?

You are all welcome to leave prompts, ideas, whatevers here or at my tumblr.

Tell me what you think!

If I apologized it wouldn't make it all unhappen,

wouldn't make the darkness go away

If I apologized it wouldn't mean I was forgiven,

wouldn't mean you wanted me to stay

…

Kono slips into Steve's house and finds him sleeping on the couch and when he doesn't wake up after she closes the door noisily, she just knows that he's on some pretty heavy painkillers or he would have noticed her arrival by then.

She doubts herself for a moment – he looks so soft, so vulnerable, so un-Steve – but the adrenaline rush from earlier still has her reeling, and as she kneels by him and begins to unbutton his pants she can already feel the wetness between her legs.

She still can't wrap her head around the fact that he got shot because of her. It happened so fast, they were chasing their guy at the docks, hopping from one container to the next and for a moment she thought it was Danny and only when he shot at Steve she'd realized her mistake, tackling the guy to the ground but it was already too late. Fortunately the bullet only grazed Steve's shoulder and he walked away with a few bruised ribs from the fall. She still felt like it was her fault no matter how many times Steve said that it wasn't.

That's why she is here, pulling his zipper down and he finally moves - and begins to grow hard - his eyes going wide as he struggles to make out what was happening and when he puts two and two together his body tenses, but he doesn't push her away and that's all the encouragement she needs.

"The hell?" He mumbles hoarsely.

"Shhh."

She pulls his cargos and boxers down - his body is aiding her as if it has a mind of its own - and he is already rock hard when she runs her fingers all the way down and up again on his length with deliberate casualness.

His skin is incredibly soft and so hot when she presses a kiss to the vein right under the head that she thinks it's gonna burn her lips.

Steve sucks in a deep breath, looking at her all confused, but his eyes are already dark and his hips involuntarily thrust upwards.

"What the hell are you doing?" He tries again but he can barely grit out the words.

"Apologizing." She says matter-of-factly.

She takes him into her mouth then, her fingers curling around his base, pleased with the long moan that escapes him. He tastes like the ocean, salty and heavy on her tongue, smells like ozone and the earth after the rain and for some reason this combination makes her even more wet, more eager as she takes him into the back of her throat over and over again.

He grunts, breathing hard, his fingers blindly finding a strand of her hair and grabbing onto it for dear life.

"I told you it wasn't your fault." he pants out the words.

Normally Kono would have laughed at the slurping noise that comes out when she squeezes him hard out of her mouth, but she's beginning to feel a frustration bubbling in her stomach.

"I know." She looks him in the eye.

"So wh…"

"Steve, just shut the fuck up."

He does.

She takes him into her mouth again, her tongue curling around his head, sucking the drop of pre-cum that accumulated there. Her fingers move from his inner thigh deep into the curls of brown hair and she gently squeezes his balls.

"Shit," he grunts, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Shh."

He curses again, but much quieter this time, and as she continues her fingers fumble with the button of her jeans, pulling her own zipper down and trying to please herself as well as him, but she'd always been a clumsy mess in times like this and she growls at her inability to perform both tasks simultaneously.

When his eyes open again he moans and chuckles at the scene.

"Come here," he whispers, hooking his hands under her arms and pulling her up, their mouths crashing together in a mess of tongues, lips, teeth scraping and before she knows it he has her pinned to the couch, his rough hands inside her pants, trying to touch her and get rid of all her clothing at the same time.

She gasps loudly when he enters her, trying her hardest not to make a sound, but fuck, he fits inside her in all the right ways. He thrusts in and out of her with admirable work for someone nursing several wounds, and she wonders what sex with Steve would be like without his injuries before she stops thinking altogether.

She wraps her legs around his waist, her heel hitting his ass as he strokes in and out of her hard, his tongue on her neck, her chest, her breasts, her cheek, her ear, and she can feel all the hurt, the anger and frustration from the day being cleansed away by his saliva, hot on her skin.

"Come on," he growls into her ear, his fingers finding her clit and drawing circles around it over and over until finally she closes her eyes and lets every part of her go, her insides clenching hard, and he comes soon after, biting the side of her neck and collapsing on top of her, his breathing ragged and raw.

She immediately misses their connection when he pulls out of her, but his body curves against her back and his breath is warm on her neck, his hands still touching, searching, memorizing her.

"Fuck," he laughs into her hair, still trying to catch his breath, his fingers curled around her breast. "You need to get me shot more often."

She grins into his pillow, feeling him smile against her skin.

Within seconds they are both asleep.