After they made love the second time, Steve couldn't sleep. More accurately he could sleep, but didn't want to. He was acutely aware that the footing that he shared with Natasha was still precarious, their feelings still tender and sore, and he couldn't be sure another night like this one would ever happen again. He hoped it would, God he hoped it would. So Steve stayed awake to watch her and to feel her breath against his neck and the tickle of her hair across his cheek. He wanted to remember these little moments, each and every one of them, just in case.

His love was curled up against him naked, warm and content. Hours passed and twilight turned into dawn. Minute by minute he watched the sun rise and suffuse the room with its warmth and golden light.

Natasha stirred when the light shone across her face and she began to make small, sleepy sounds. It felt good to have her wake up next to him again, he'd missed this so much. She mumbled something at him sleepily and kissed him behind his ear. Her sleepy sounds suddenly turned into sexy sleepy sounds and then her hand was rubbing his chest, scratching his belly and trailing further and further down…


The air in the room was humid and smelled like sex and clean sweat. Steve found it intoxicating. Natasha had a good rhythm going. Steve was half-reclined against the piled pillows as she moved up and down over him. He liked being at this angle more than he liked laying prone. It gave Natasha better access and him a better chance to kiss and touch her where he wanted. She was playing with him this time, a wicked little smile ghosting at the edges of her mouth. Every time he leaned up to take one of her breasts in his mouth she pushed him back down and laughed. He didn't know how she expected him to resist them, seeing as they were bouncing not a foot from his face.

Steve scowled at her and then moaned as she did that thing with her hips, that undulating thing. It drove him half out of his mind whenever she did it. Natasha was in control and settled back into her previous rhythm when she saw him stiffen with pleasure. She chuckled and then leaned down to kiss and nip at him playfully. "How's that?" she purred against his lips.

He felt himself smiling back, but didn't answer. Instead he held her to him, sliding his hands up her flanks and around her chest to cup her breasts. He loved the feel of their skin sliding across each other and the sound it made, a soft papery sound. When she began to sit back up, Steve darted in for the kill and finally captured one of her nipples in his mouth. It was the left one, his favorite. There was really no difference between them, but for some reason he loved the left one. Natasha half moaned and laughed as she tried to push him down again.

Steve wasn't having it. He hugged Natasha against him and sat up with her, sucking on her nipple until she gave a sharp intake of breath. Natasha ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. Steve bit and sucked his way up her chest to her neck, intentionally marking her as he went. Then she started making that noise, that little noise that she would flat out deny if he told her about it, and it pleased him to no end that she only made that sound because of him. Her rhythm became more erratic.

He was making noises himself and they moved together with a sense of urgency. Steve closed his eyes for a moment as a brief, but intense wave of pleasure rolled over him. When he opened them again, Natasha was looking directly into his eyes and his heart lurched sideways. Steve loved this woman, could feel that truth blazing through every cell in his body. And even though Natasha had only whispered it to him once when she thought he was fast asleep, Steve was sure she loved him back.

Her walls fluttered around him, tightening and releasing sporadically. Their gazes were locked and their breaths came out in short bursts. She was closing around him tighter now, and the pressure and ecstasy began to build. God she was so close, so close, so close… Natasha stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened in what seemed like terror or horror and she whipped her head around towards the bedroom door. Steve knew that someone must be behind her, because Natasha always knew when someone was behind her.

He followed her gaze and then took in a startled breath—Tony Stark was standing in the doorway, just staring at them. Natasha snatched up the bed sheet puddled around her legs, and covered herself.

"Did you know your front door is open? Wow… This a bad time?" Tony asked with guileless innocence.

Of all the people that could have been standing in that doorway, it had to be him. The man who had torn the superhero community in half. The man who had caused a gulf between him and Natasha. The man who just had the balls to walk into Steve's apartment uninvited and unannounced.

He barely heard Natasha cry out in surprise as he swung her off of him and bounded out of bed. All Steve was aware of was the pounding in his ears and the red that had suddenly flooded his vision. He didn't know that he was roaring as he went for Tony, he didn't know that Natasha was screaming for him to stop, and he didn't know that Tony's mouth had dropped open when he realized what was about to happen.

All Steve knew was that he was going to kill Tony Stark.