*Set directly after CATWS.
"Where are you going to go?"
The time Steve had spent with Natasha Romanoff wasn't that long, and she was by far the most confusing person he has ever met. Yet, here he stood, in the middle of a cemetery staring into her green eyes with one sentence going through his mind over and over again.
Stay here with me.
Natasha shrugged. "Don't know yet," she said simply.
Steve was hoping she would say what he wasn't brave enough to. Or that she'd see right through him like she always did; see how desperate he was for her to stay with him. Cowardice had never been a trait of his, but she made him terrified if he was being honest with himself. It was funny, he'd run into a fight without a second thought but he couldn't tell Natasha that he wanted her by his side. "Nat, I-" -he sighed- "even after everything, I barely know you."
Her eyes flicked to the floor and she let out a small laugh. "You know me a lot more than you think," she said. She leaned forward and was she going to kiss him? Steve only stayed frozen in place as Natasha leaned into him. He was sure his face showed his confusion when she kissed his cheek. She gave him one last smirk, god, he loves that smirk, turned on her heels, and left, leaving Steve to stare after her in confusion. Why did she kiss him, and why was he so disappointed that it wasn't on the lips? Why did his chest feel so empty that she left? Steve shook his head to clear it.
She was just a friend. That's all.
Sam's hand came to his shoulder with a small pat. "She's not staying?" Sam asked.
Steve's eyes stayed glued the path that she had walked on moments before. "She didn't want to."
Sam laughed. "Man, I had to suffer through your weird superhero version of flirting for three days just for you to let her go?"
Regret was already settling in the pit of his stomach, and he really didn't want to talk about it. "Worry about my love life later," Steve said as he held up the thick folder Natasha had given him, "right now, we got work to do."
Steve and Sam pushed open the door of Sam's house with a sigh of relief. Steve had collapsed on the sofa and unclasped his helmet, carelessly tossing it aside. There were thoughts of getting up to shower, but guessing by the the sound of water rushing through pipes, Sam had already beat him to it. So he stayed on the couch, feeling like all of his energy was drained. They had been trying to find Bucky for months now, and it seemed like every path to him ended in a dead end. Steve felt defeated. If it was the other way around, Bucky would've found him months before. He couldn't stand the thought of his best friend alone out in the world, and alone in a new time period like he was. It was terrifying.
The couch squeaked in protest as Steve turned on his side. It was uncomfortable but Steve didn't want to move to the guest bedroom. Natasha and him had shared the bed that one night they stayed at Sam's while they were on the run. It was a night spent with spaces between sheets and eventually with them tangled together, sound asleep. And it was all Steve could think about when he was in that bed. He thought about how he ran her hands through her red hair as they both tried to fall asleep, and how she tucked herself into his side. At the time he didn't think twice about it, just brushed it off as a friendly gesture, and them just trying to comfort each other until they finally fell asleep. But now that she was gone all he could think about was every touch they shared.
He thought about Natasha a lot these days. All these questions rushed through his mind. He just needed to know if she was okay... and if she missed him. Because he missed her so much. Everyday she occupied his thoughts.
And with that he came to a conclusion: He was in love with Natasha Romanoff. And she was gone. And probably didn't love him back.
And why would she? She was a closed off person. What made him so special that he'd think that she'd open up to him of all people?
His phone ringing brought him back from his thoughts. He was tempted just to let it ring but he slammed down on the button when he saw Clint's name across his screen. "Clint, it's three in the morning-" Steve started.
"It's about Natasha," Clint said.
Steve sat up, his exhaustion was washed away and replaced with a twinge of fear. "Is she okay? What's wrong?" Steve asked a little too desperately. He knew he shouldn't have let her go, that something would happen to her. Now there was a chance he was never going to see her again and-
"Calm down," Clint said, "she's fine. I just got off of the phone with her and you were all she was talking about. I don't know what happened between you two but I think you should call her."
She was talking about him? When did she get in contact with Clint, and why didn't she bother to do the same with him? "I don't have her number," was all Steve said, because frankly, he was exhausted and the sofa seemed a lot more comfortable than it did a few moments before.
"I'll give it to you, just call her. I'm worried about her." It was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one worrying about Natasha, and that he wasn't overreacting because he was sorta in love with her. So Steve listened and wrote down the number Clint had given her. "Call her soon, she might change her number."
"I will, thank you," Steve said. He felt like a weight was being lifted off of his chest. He was going to talk to Natasha, he was going to know that she was okay. They said their goodbyes, and Steve leaned back down on the couch.
He had a staring contest with the piece of paper for a few moments, then slowly typed in her number. He took a deep breath before he pressed the call button. All he wanted to hear was her voice, it would make the past months worth all of the exhaustion and pain. But he didn't get to hear her. All he got was automated voice telling him that the number couldn't be reached and to leave a message. He was half way to hanging up when he heard a beep and he realized that he would never live down letting her go again.
"Nat, it's Steve." He paused for a few moments. "I don't really know what to say," he finally got out. Silence again. Even if he could get anything out he was sure she'd stop listening by then. If she even opened the voicemail in the first place.
He sighed. He could just apologize and hang up. The level of creepiness was already pretty high by the amount of gaps of time between his words. But he had questions and he wanted answers. And more than anything else he just wanted her home.
"What did you mean when you said I know you more than I think? Because I barely know you, Natasha, you were gone before I could know you. And all I could think about is what would've happened if you stayed." Everything he thought for the past few months was just coming out, he had so many questions for her, most of which he'd probably never get an answer to. "I don't even know where you are."
"Shower's free!" Sam called. He really, really didn't want to be caught in such a desperate moment by Sam. Steve's been waiting, and imagining the moment he got to tell Natasha how much she meant to her, but in that moment he was dreading letting the words out.
He gripped the phone and squeezed his eyes shut. "You're not even here and I'm falling so hard for you. So if you'd just come home to me, I would like to have the chance to make you mine." And before he could lose his courage, he said it. "I love you, Nat, just please come back."
The long time empty guest room was finally used again that night. He figured since he was going to think about Natasha all night anyway he might as well be comfortable in a bed. To his surprise, he did fall asleep and managed to stay asleep for a few hours. Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the first thing on his mind when he woke up.
He pawed at the nightstand until his hands wrapped around his phone. The bright light was harsh on his sensitive eyes but he didn't bother putting the phone down. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The morning was off to a bad start. He made his way to the kitchen thinking about how if he ever did see Natasha again he was sure she'd think he was a gigantic creep and want nothing to do with him.
But then he stopped in his tracks. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak. He was completely frozen.
"Nat." Move. His feet moving was slightly involuntary but he was grateful that he wasn't glued to the spot. What was only a few steps felt like miles to him.
She was leaning against the counter casually as if she hadn't been gone for months and instead like she was in this kitchen every morning. Her hair was shorter, the curls slightly crooked like she cut her hair herself. She was sporting a few bruises but they seemed to be the worst of any wounds she had. What had she been doing?
Natasha swirled her cup around. "I always took Sam as a vanilla guy, kinda weird that he has hazelnut coffee."
"Nat," Steve repeated.
"And a lot of it too. And his coffee machine is almost as ancient as you, Rogers."
He didn't even hear what she was saying, he just kept walking to her. Then she was in his arms again, and he was so relieved. He held her flush against his chest. "How'd you get here so fast?" He murmured into her hair.
She laughed, and God he missed that sound. "I have my ways, Rogers." She poked him in the chest. "I got your message."
He only nodded and leaned down to her. She wasted no time in leaning up to press her lips to his. Kissing her was all he had wanted to do for so long, and it was better than he'd ever imagined. His hands came up to cup her face, and he laughed into her mouth when her hands settled on his ass. When he ran his tongue along her bottom lip she sighed but didn't give him more access. Instead she pulled away. Protests were on the tip of his tongue but she spoke before they got out.
"I love you too."
AN: Wow this has been buried in my computer since when the Winter Soldier was still in theaters. So glad I finally finished it since I love these two so much. Review please!