So another test one shot before I go about writing a full-fledged short story. Thought I'd try my hand at a little fluff this time. There might be hints of this being the same reader as the one in my Bucky X Reader Fic (Easing Hand), just with a different outcome.

When you first became a medic for the Avengers, you expected nonstop action and a life full of danger and adventure. Needless to say, you were a bit disappointed.

You hoped that you'd be going out to battle with them, even without the proper training to handle yourself. You'd finally gotten out of your boring S.H.I.E.L.D. desk job. However, realism had its way and determined that a lack of experience in active battle meant staying home and waiting for the injured heroes to come to you.

There was no shortage of work, though. With how many missions the team was sent on, your job still took more than a few days out of your week. That, however, didn't mean the stubborn team wanted medical help. The lot of them, primarily Natasha, Steve and Bucky, often denied needing help in the first place. Being able to put up good arguments should've been in your job description.

You were already waiting in the small but well equipped medical ward of the Stark building. After getting word of Steve returning from a mission, you were ordered to wait for him. You hadn't even been told what had happened, but the lack of urgency in Vision's voice suggested it wasn't anything serious. You assumed it would be a few stitches, which was all well and good. Except Steve was definitely going to put up another fight. You weren't excited.

You were leaned over your desk, sifting through some paperwork, getting a little bored waiting. Finally, you heard the door open and familiar heavy footsteps approaching. You turned your body to look at a brooding Steve. Nothing seemed out of place, other than his sour face. He was just tired.

"What's the damage, soldier?" You asked, standing and stepping up to him to get a closer look, trying to pinpoint the problem.

"Nothing. I don't need any help." There it was. You sighed, rolling your eyes. You would've asked why he even bothered to show up, but past confrontations have proved that Steve was too polite to merely skip out on medical attention all together—not without letting you know in person.

"Vision says otherwise."

"Well, I'm fine."

"You look exhausted and you have cuts on your face." You knew the cuts weren't why he was sent here, considering he had likely cleaned them when he took a shower. Finally, you began circling the man, trying to look at his back. He turned it away, however, making it obvious the injury was there. "Steve. Stop." With the work he just did, he had every right to have a bad attitude, but you weren't in the mood to deal with it either.

You grabbed his arm with a soft touch, holding him in place as you walked around him again. He could've easily pulled away, but he didn't, turning his back towards you. A splotch of red already staining his fresh, white undershirt caught your attention. "There it is." You felt accomplished even finding it this early on. Was Steve too tired for arguments, or was he coming around? "Did somebody nick you with a knife again? Looks like you need a few stitches."

"It's like I said, I'm fine. If you could just clean it up and cover it for me, that'd be—" Steve started up again, but was cut off but your voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you the medic?" You walked back to shoot him an annoyed look before you started towards the examination table, next to which were a few chairs. "Take your shirt off, sit down, front to the back of the seat." You demanded, pointing to a cushioned, sedentary chair as you sat down in your rolling adjustable one.

Steve sighed, looking annoyed himself but soon obliging orders. He peeled off his shirt carefully, sighing at the stain on the back before setting it aside. You weren't sure, but you could've sworn you heard him grunt at any harsh movement of his body.

"Cuts hurt even the fast-healing, all-man Captain himself, huh?"

"I don't need your jokes right now, Miss Y/L/N. Just stitch me up." You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to sit in the chair. You had previously assumed you'd be performing stitches again, so you had already set your station up.

Steve sat down, legs straddling the chair as he leaned forward over the back of it, his strong back exposed to you. If you hadn't already been desensitized to his muscular form, you might've swooned. "Want any pain killers?"

"You know they'd hardly work."

"Just thought I'd ask again."

"No, thank you." His voice was still stiff and annoyed, but you elected to ignore it and instead reach for your tools. You grabbed some 4x4 gauze, dipping it in saline solution and scooting forward to get a better angle of the wound. It was deeper than you thought, but definitely manageable.

"Sorry, hon. I'll be gentle." Your voice was already softer as you reached in, knowing it was likely going to sting.

"I can manage." His own voice was lower and preceded by a clearing of his throat. As soon as the gauze touched the edge of the wound, he could see him wince again, but your hand remained steady. Once he was still, you ran it across once before throwing the bloodied bandage away and grabbing another one. You repeated the process, grabbing a new, irrigated gauze each time.

"You Avengers are all champs, you know that?" You tried to make casual conversation as you reached for the needle and dissolving thread.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone here has a much higher pain tolerance than some of the other agents back at S.H.I.E.L.D. I should start handing out lollipops to you guys when you've done well." You chuckled softly, starting the stitches almost mindlessly. Steve's second and last flinch came when the needle first penetrated his skin.

"You'd run out of candy pretty fast." Even his tone was becoming more lighthearted. You couldn't describe how thankful you were that the arguments were short lived this time, even if it was odd for Steve to not put as much of a fight as he usually did. This was the Steve you liked being around, the one that made you agree to work for the Avengers in the first place.

"You're right. I should find a cheaper, more mature alternative." You grinned as you worked, each incision easier and more mindless than the last. It only seemed like a matter of minutes before you were done and patching him up.

You looked over your work to make sure you didn't miss anything before patting his shoulder as you stood. "You're done, big guy. That wasn't so hard, was it?" You teased as he stood slowly, adjusting to the new addition to his back. "What would you like as a reward for being such a great sport?"

Steve looked down to you, signature yet natural pout on those plump lips. Now that you were face-to-face with him, you were forced to admire those gorgeous features. Even though his hair wasn't as proper as usual given he had just gotten out of the shower not thirty minutes prior, you still found a certain appeal in the way it fell over his forehead, accenting his face.

"I'm not sure, Y/N. You're the doctor here." He raised a brow at you, especially since your cheeks had gone a bit pink.

"Medic." You corrected instantly. "Technically not a doctor."

"You do your job well, ma'am." The compliment made you smile which in turn actually made Captain Pouty's lips curve upwards ever so slightly.

"Awe, that's the smile I like to see." You grinned even wider, unable to stop the words before they came out. Luckily enough for you, the cute talk you were sure would come off as patronizing made him smile even wider, his pearly whites even shining through. It was a snowball effect from there, because seeing his expression only made you giggle.

Without much thought, you opened your arms to offer a hug and to your surprise, he accepted it, bringing you in to his bare chest. He still had a natural musky scene despite having taken a shower. You were sure to place your hands low on his back to avoid his bandage. "Bad day?" You inquired, words muffled due to your face being smothered by his pecks.

He barely pulled away and you did the same, but your arms remained casually around each other as he started to speak. "Hard day, is all. But we won." The mention of his victory brought another small smile to his lips.

"Are you sore at all? I might be able to tell Tony to get somebody to give you a massage, or something. You might need a day or two to relax." You offered, only for Steve to shake his head.

"There's a lot to do, and I don't think I'd feel comfortable getting a massage from a stranger." He admitted freely.

"What about me? I give one mean shoulder rub." You hadn't even noticed that your hands and interlocked behind his back. You did, however, notice his strong hands on your upper arm, which made your blush return.

The suggestion brought confusion, doubt and even a bit of red to his cheeks. "Hm, I'm not sure that's appropriate." His own reaction had you suddenly overthinking things. Steve, the master of virginity and innocence (at least in the Avengers), was saying something as innocent as a shoulder rub wasn't appropriate. You knew he was old fashioned, but you two were currently latched onto each other, for Christ's sake. What was the problem?

"Uhm, excuse me for saying so, but I don't see how. It's just me rubbing your shoulders." Your words had Steve shaking his head again.

"I don't think so, Y/N. But thank you." Now that you went out of your way to check, his cheeks were still flushed, and yours as well, you presumed.

"Okay." You weren't going to force anything, but curiosity still had its way with you. This suddenly had you questioning just how you felt for the Captain, and how he might've felt for you. Was there some underlying signals he had been sending you that you were too dull to pick up on until now? Were you sending signals without realizing it?

Why did you have to complicate things?

You hadn't realized that you were lost in thought for a good few seconds until Steve brought you out of it. "You okay?" He asked, blue eyes still staring you down. Your hands had somehow fallen back to your sides, and in a quick and thoughtless retaliation, you brought them up to wrap around his shoulders. To your afterthought surprise, he didn't pull away or protest, even as you came a step closer.

"I'm fine. Just a little… I don't know." You didn't even understand what was going through your head. "Dazed, I guess."

"I didn't mean to give you mixed feelings." The words were said with less confidence than what you were used to from Steve. He nearly stammered. With each passing moment, you were growing closer and closer to saying with certainty that something else was at play here that Steve wasn't vocalizing.

"Y-You didn't…" You dropped your head in thought. No more than a moment or two later, he wrapped his index around your chin and lifted your stare up to his again. You were expecting him to say something, but instead you were left to drown in his silence. His stare had only grown more intent.

Prolonged eye contact usually made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't pull yourself away. Intensity was flooding your mind, and you had no idea what was happening until it happened.

His lips were suddenly against yours in a soft kiss. It wasn't all his doing, however, because you were quick to notice that your grip around his neck had tightened and you were on your toes to reach him. Apparently you two had made a move at the same time.

Passion grew, deepening the kiss just a few seconds before he pulled away and you followed suit. Your cheeks were flaming now and you averted your stare to the side, and he did the same. Your fingers grazed mindlessly against the back of his neck, and you realized his hands were now around your waist.

After another moment, you pulled away from him completely, bringing your arms back to yourself and pursing your lips shyly. "Uh…" You tried to say something, anything, but you had no words.

"Uh… sorry." He tried himself, still getting more out than you.

"No, don't be. It wasn't all you." To try to make yourself seem more at ease than you were—your heart was racing and you were practically shaking in excitement and fear—you started putting away your equipment, setting the tools in sterilizing solution.

Steve stood by, awkwardly hunched by the chair he was previously sitting in. "So, um, I guess we owe ourselves an explanation." That was so like Steve, trying to find a solution to the problem right after the problem proposed itself. You weren't sure you wanted to talk about it though.

"Caught in the heat of the moment, I guess." You gave as an explanation, though you hardly believed it yourself.

"I guess so."

"And you're probably tired from the mission. Your brain is a little fog—" You were cut off by Steve's voice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm going to have to stop you there." His voice had become stern again, the super soldier stepping closer to you causing you to pause in your work and slowly turn to look at him. He looked bigger than usual standing over you. "I don't know why that happened, but I can say with absolute certainty that it didn't happen because I'm tired."

The words made your heart skip a beat. If your face could get redder, it would've. "O-Oh." He was always so… intense. "If you really think so."

"I do, Y/N." He reached out to grab your upper arm again, pulling you closer to him without using force. You were a ragdoll even in his soft grasp. You turned your body more towards his and he hesitated for a moment before pulling you in for another hug, this one tighter and holding more feeling than the last.

You wrapped your arms around his lower torso again, biting your lip as he held onto you. He was leaning over to meet you this time, his face burying in your shoulder somewhere in the process. As he pulled away, he kissed the top of your head and lingered just long enough to take in the scent of your hair that was tied back in a professional ponytail.

When he was standing straight and looking down at you again, you had to say something. "I, uh, I think this could go somewhere—we could go somewhere, I mean." What the hell were you saying? "We could go to dinner, or something… when you have the time." Was that what you wanted to say? You had no idea, but you couldn't take it back now.

"To help figure things out." He confirmed with a stern nod, stepping back from you and moving to grab his shirt. "How about… Saturday night at six? I'll try to keep my schedule free, but…"

"Work calls, I know." You said with the smallest of smiles, using all of your energy to try and remain calm. How was Steve so collected about all of this? "Saturday at six it is." Those words. You didn't know you needed them said until they escaped your mouth. It was like euphoria knowing you had a date with Steve Rogers. Of all the Avengers, he was by far the one you admired the most.

"See you around, Y/N." Steve hesitated for a moment before coming in to awkwardly peck your cheek. After that, he smiled at you and took his leave from the medical center.

"Wow…" Had that really just happened? How did arguing over giving Captain America stitches end in you asking Steve Rogers out and him agreeing? It was beyond you. But now there was something to look forward to.