Steve glances in the mirror quickly before noticing the slight bags under his eyes. Stubble has made its way across the panes of his face, making it appear as if he is older. Steve frowns glancing away, before stepping into the steaming shower. It's been 19 days since he has last seen her. Natasha Romanoff, a woman who is really good at leaving. Last time he saw her...Steve closes his eyes trying to forget. I just need to get her out of my mind any way possible. He finds his hands gravitate to the throbbing between his legs stroking slowly. Visions explode through his mind and he falls back against the wall. He deserves this, doesn't he? Everything is just so fucked now.

After he finishes, he is ready to go anywhere away from the Stark Tower. He calls the elevator trying to decide over the bar or a club. A strip club maybe, best of both worlds. When it opens, he steps in immediately noticing someone standing with their back to him with a hoodie on. Whatever. He presses the button for the first floor and waits. The person turns around and he loses his breath. "Natasha," he whispers. He stands straighter fixing his hair and suddenly feeling exposed. Which is weird, because he had been dying to see her. She pushes her hair back looking upset. Natasha leans forward pressing the key for the next closest floor. What right does she have to be pissed? Steve takes a more nice route to get her to listen. "Wait, you don't have to-" Suddenly, some large crashing noise is heard, and the whole elevator shakes. Steve instinctively reaches out for her, but they end up losing balence completely and fall on the ground. "Fuck," she mumbles.

God, he had been playing this scenario in his head a million times. And here she was desperate to get out. What was it about her anyway? He let his eyes trail down her body. She almost seemed…. more full. Thicker somehow which he definitely appreciated. He could feel her skin, hot and smooth on the ground. He decided then and there that they would not be playing games anymore. Natasha just needed to see how good this could be. She was begging last time they were together, and now she acted like he didn't even exist.

"Nat-"

"Let's just get this fixed," she grumbled moving out of his grasp.

30 minutes later Natasha finally stops trying to gain contact with Tony. It isn't supposed to be like this she thinks, trying to steer clear of Steve. He stares down at her, his hair still wet from a shower, but she refuses to return his gaze. She shivers, unable to control her response to his body. "Nat, can you look at me?" he asks, voice straining with frustration. She moves toward the door to attempt to pry it open. Can't he see how much she needs space? She already told him, left him free of any responsibility. Any guy would see how that would be great. "Tasha," he yells, gripping her arm and pulling her closer. All she can see is his lips, parted, practically begging to be kissed. Natasha closes the distance, even though she knows she shouldn't, but as their lips touch, her body heats up. Did she really think she could ever live without kissing him again?

Steve responds quickly, grasping her waist close, almost as if he knew she couldn't resist him. Maybe because it's impossible to resist her. He has her now, and can't bring himself to stop. She's against the wall in a second, lips smashing, breathing each other in. He loves Natasha like this, vulnerable to him. She likes Steve like this as well, not calculated and perfect.

The reason she has been ignoring Steve nags at her again. Should I tell him? she wonders. He moves closer to her ear, kissing and biting. "I love you, Nat. I have all this time." She stops breathing. This isn't right. He goes in to kiss her lips, but she pushes him in the chest. "Stop." "Please listen, I can't stand being away from you for so long. Today I thought-" "I'm pregnant." Natasha says, voice quivering.