A/N: Hi! Without further ado prepare for Romanogers fluff. Lots of it.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All rights to Marvel Cinematic Universe, etc.


CHAPTER 7: Living in another world

You're the love that I hate
You're the drug that I take
Will you cage me?
Will you cage me?
You're the pulse in my veins
You're the war that I wage
Can you change me?
Can you change me?

- Starset, "Monster"


When he woke up, there was a heavy blizzard outside, raging through the streets of NYC and covering the buildings with a white, velvet drapery. Intricately designed snowflakes swirled in the cold December air, turning the city into a mysterious landscape, looking as if it was made out of cake icing.

He got up and made his way to the bathroom. Natasha mentioned earlier she liked his new look with the beard, so he groomed it carefully and made his all-time-favourite 40s-style parting. Then he dressed up in his usual not-so-heroic office uniform and glanced back at Natasha, who was still sleeping, calm and blissful.

It took some time for him, with his old-fashioned, strict manners, to get used to the fact that in 21st century he could sleep with a girl and not be her husband. They were just friends after all. It seemed extremely weird for him, just like the last time in Barcelona, however, this time (to both his and Natasha's surprise) it was Steve's initiative.

"I can't let you be alone, especially at night, knowing that last time that bastard got you." He told her and prepped his bed for her to sleep in, while Natasha made some really inappropriate comments about his dignity (she hopped into his bed nonetheless).

Though it made him embarrassed beyond any expectations, he was still able to convince himself it was a right thing to do. Friends need to protect each other. The only problem was, whether Natasha was still his friend or… well, who she was for him – that was a good question, which bothered him for a very long time now.

He came closer and adjusted the blanket she was sleeping under, as it almost slipped to the ground. He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and she fluttered one emerald eye open.

"Where you goin'?" she asked drowsily.

"I'll be back in a few hours. We can go ice skating in the evening, if you like." He whispered into her ear.

"Sounds great." Redhead spy muttered and buried her face in his covers.

Steve closed the door silently behind him and took the elevator to the communal floor where he ate a modest breakfast. When cooking for someone (especially Natasha or always-hungry Thor) he would always come up with something original or more sophisticated, but when he ate alone, it was a simple, soldierly meal.

Then he headed to the garage and got into one of the agency-issued cars. He sped off to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, being well aware of how boring and tedious work awaited him.


Natasha tried her best to fall asleep after his departure, but after almost an hour of rolling over she came to a conclusion that she won't get more sleep. Not when he was not around.

Recently she was only able to fall asleep when Steve was inside the same room, sleeping on a sofa or (even better) with her in the same bed. Plus, she didn't have any nightmares when the soldier was holding her – even the memories of his torture were slowly fading away while she melt in his arms.

A longing sigh escaped her mouth and she stood up in order to make the bed. Normally her covers and pillows would be a complete mess; Natasha was an active sleeper, even if she didn't have nightmares. However now when Steve was in the same room as her, she would sleep peacefully the whole night, especially if he embraced her, and her covers didn't take much time to be adjusted properly.

She was about to leave, intending to have a cup of coffee and a toast, when she caught a glimpse of Steve's sketchbook; she knew how reserved and secretive he was about those drawing, but she just couldn't help her curiosity.

"Spy's character, I guess." she shrugged her shoulders.

Natasha took the sketchbook from under his pillow, opened it and started to admire these little pieces of art. They were like colourful shards of glass, which separately didn't mean much, but when put together – they would tell a story of someone far more complicated than meets the eye.

An old, small house, a happy family, weaving as if Natasha was standing in front of them and taking a picture. The time froze and those smiles would always be there, no matter what happened after.

A set of family photos, one of which depicts a tall, lanky man with moustache and somehow familiar facial features. Steve's father, Joseph, who died in world war I. This is what we call irony; this certainly wasn't the 'war to end all wars' yet it consumed countless lives.

Modestly equipped kitchen. Steve's mother cooking the delicious pancakes he learned to prepare so many years after she passed away.

Young boy playing chess with his best friend Bucky Barnes. Steve was still skinny.

A drawing of him getting rejected at various recruiting points throughout the United States.

Steve getting beaten up in an alley and Bucky helping him out.

Scrawny boy talks with a man with glasses and benevolent smile. Erskine.

His friends from the army, joking about something which was not meant for her to know.

Howard Stark working on Captain America's vibranium shield.

Doctor Erskine's dying in Steve's arms and pointing his trembling hand at soldier's heart.

Battlefield. Planes flying over and raining bombs over dirty-looking soldiers hidden in trenches.

Peggy. Peggy Carter.

Bucky felling off the train. The picture shows no Steve but his hand, which didn't manage to catch his friend in time.

Plane crashing into a frozen wasteland, accompanied by a shower of burning metal shards.

A ballroom full of military suits and elegant dresses. A glimpse of brown hair and red lipstick, a snowstorm raging in the background.

The next page is blank with only one word in its centre, almost illegible, as if the writer's hand was shaking.

Cold.

She flipped the page and noticed that soldier changed his sketching style.

Cityscape of old New York, transforming into the modern one with neons and billboards, the transition smoothly and skilfully captured.

Fury shaking Steve's hand.

Battle of NYC. Iron Man flies around in his suit, blasting the aliens with mini-rockets and repulsors. Thor on the top of Chrysler building, summons a powerful thunderbolt, causing the sky to turn dark. Clint fires arrows with inhuman speed, while Bruce Banner's alter ago smashes the aliens as if they were little rag-dolls.

A ruined city and a perspective view of the Avengers Tower in the morning sun.

His old house, now serving as an exhibition, full of modern-looking people with children and Captain America toys. Little, plastic figures probably had no idea what kind of horrors their real-life counterpart had to endure.

Then she saw something she was never meant to find (at least Steve hoped she wouldn't). Drawings of Natasha Romanoff. And not just one, that was for sure.

Natasha fighting Hydra agents. Natasha trying her best to find him a date. Natasha crunching a toast and reading a book. Natasha training in the Avengers gym. Natasha in an armchair with a mug of hot chocolate. Natasha shouting at him. Natasha sleeping peacefully, curled like a cat. Natasha crying. Natasha leaning against the railing of the balcony staring at the neon vapour of NYC streets.

She flipped to the last page, which was bookmarked with his dogtags, and saw that it also depicted her face.

Natasha's deep eye in a colour of verdant grass and one lonely strand of her blazing-red hair, which escaped her fringe. An ambiguous smile dancing on her small, soft lips.

The metal was cold against her warm skin, but now she realized that the dogtags were at last where they belonged.


"Good morning, Captain Rogers." Agent Maria Hill greeted Steve who was about to enter his office.

"Hello, Maria." He nodded in response.

"I've got a few documents for you to fill. From director Fury." She said, handling him a small, black pendrive with S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, which he suspiciously looked at. Those little pieces of technological crap could store limitless amounts of data. Steve did not like that at all when it came to him using the computer.

He thanked Maria and entered his office. It was a small room with black walls, black floor, black desk, pretty much everything was black here except for huge sliding window in front of his desk, from which he had a magnificent look of the city.

After turning on the computer and launching the system, he plugged the pendrive in and soon a fat folder full of various files appeared on the screen. He watched in horror as the list unrolled itself, finally hitting an unbelievable number of 224 files.

He sighed with frustration. Well, it was time to work off his "irresponsible behaviour", as Fury put it.

"Why there is no alien invasion or somethin'? I could really use that." he thought to himself, clicking on the first position on the seemingly endless list.


He returned to the Tower at about 5.30 pm and found the redhead spy reading a book, he recommended her a while ago. Steve tried not to notice that Natasha was wearing one of his white army t-shirt which looked ridiculously loose on her small frame and revealed much of her shapes, effectively distracting him.

"Something's wrong? You're late."

"Oh, it's nothing, just those stupid computers. Still a nightmare for me." Steve sent her an apologetic smile, doing his best not shift his sight from her eyes. "You'd like somethin' to eat, before we go skating?"

"Depends on what's on the menu, Rogers." She replied, putting the book away.

"How about home-made tacos?" He started taking the supplies out of the cupboard.

"That'll earn me a few more training sessions." She replied in a serious tone, carefully examining her body curves (Steve tried his best not to examine them himself). "And you Rogers, will be responsible for that."

"Well then, you can always try Tony's famous, hmmm let's call it dish." Soldier replied with a smirk, as Natasha glanced at the horrific abomination on the kitchen counter, which was meant to be "uncle Tony's specialty" (whatever it was supposed to be).

Needless to say – it certainly wasn't and the rest of the team decided to just order pizzas (extra-large ones for Thor of course).

"Soooo… what are those tacos of yours supposed to be with?"


It was snowing all day and it did not stop when Steve and Natasha headed for the ice rink, prepared in the Central Park on one of the frozen pools. The trees around the pond looked like those in "Narnia: the lion, the witch and the wardrobe" movie and turned an ordinary park into an unusual dreamland, lit by small lanterns here and there.

They paid for the boots and ventured onto the thick sheet of ice, where it soon turned out that Natasha moved effortlessly and gracefully, while Steve looked like a bull in a china shop.

"Hey Rogers! I hope you know how to use those remarkable pieces of technology?" Natasha teased him, while Steve struggled to keep his balance on the ice.

"Yeah, pretty much." He grumbled. "Just give me a sec, it's not the first time I'm skating… "

"... but definitely for the first time in 70 years." He finished in his mind, glad she could not hear him.

After a few tries to maintain his equilibrium, the soldier got a hang of it and soon he sped off by Natasha's side, whose skating skills were a sight for sore eyes.

"Who would have guessed that Red Room training would bring me one day onto the ice, skating with a 95-year-old grandpa?" She called after him, as he was able to get ahead of her.

"You know what, Romanoff?" he countered with feigned offense in his voice. "And I thought about taking you for a mulled wine."

"Awww, you did? That's so sweet." She blinked at him and his face turned much more red then it already was.

They skated for a long time together, chasing each other and doing crazy pirouettes all over the frozen pool. Soon they were the only people at the rink – it started to get dark and late.

Finally, breathless and sweaty, they decided it was time for a break and settled in a cosy café called "Winter Wonderland" organized inside a large, white tent, facing the frozen pond. Inside, there were fans placed, which produced waves of hot air, a true salvation for two chilled skaters.

Natasha ordered a huge mug of steaming mulled wine, and so did Steve, regardless of the fact that he was immune to its effects.

"I missed that." She said, after a long period of comfortable silence.

"What exactly?"

"A normal life. What you did today… this was a magical evening. Thank you, Steve."

"Don't mention it. I would do anything for my friends and taking you for ice skating seemed like a really good idea." he replied with a smile. "Glad you liked it."

"I did." She took a sip of her wine and fell silent.

They both watched the cottony snow, piling high outside the café, until a waiter came over and asked them to leave – the place was closing. The soldier glanced at his watch and saw it was almost midnight. The time just seemed to fly when she was around.

Steve insisted on paying, which earned him a glare from Natasha, and soon they were on their way home. The full moon was high in the sky and the path ahead was flushed with its silvery glow. As they were passing by a frozen fountain, Natasha jumped on its stone edge and giggled like a 5-year-old girl. Soldier smiled, watching the spy stretching her arms for balance, wishing their life was just this mundane.

Redhead was almost at the end of the fountain's edge, when she slipped on the ice and was going to hit against the frozen ground. Steve managed to catch her just in time, her feet dangling in the air (which looked kinda sweet and funny).

"Thanks, Cap." She muttered in a relieved voice, and when he didn't put her on the ground she giggled again. "Oh, you're gonna carry me to the Tower? That's really adorable, you know?"

She winked at the super-soldier in a way nobody did, which made Steve smile widely. He gazed into those deep, mischievous emerald eyes which he had drowned in, oh so long ago and wished they could just stay like this indefinitely.

"Possibly."

He adjusted her wool scarf so she would stay warm, however while doing so, he spotted his dogtags' chain on her neck. How could he have missed that earlier?

"You've seen the sketchbook, am I right?" Steve asked blankly. "You… you've seen it all."

Natasha decided it was no good to say she was sorry or that she didn't.

"I did."

"I…"

"It's okay."

She was dangerously close and smelled temptingly of cinnamon and vanilla. Her fiery hair and glowing cheeks made her so impossibly cute that he felt his stomach turning upside down, his heartbeat rising.

"You've got talent, soldier."

Before he knew what he was doing, Steve pressed his lips against hers. Their kiss was gentle, slow and endearing.

"I love you Natasha." Super-soldier whispered after they broke apart and lifted his eyes to look upon her.

At that moment he expected at least a smile from her and wasn't ready for what followed. Natasha had a vague expression; she was definitely not smiling. He could tell something has changed, something has disappeared from her eyes.

Steve cursed himself in his mind. Did he really need to kiss her? Did he really hoped to find something in those orbs?

"I'm sorry, Natasha… I… I shouldn't have… " He mumbled awkwardly, feeling like an ashamed teenager which, needless to say, was an awful feeling.

"It's probably… the wine." She said not looking at him, even though they both knew that Earth alcohol had no effect on the super-soldier.

They returned to the Tower, not saying a single word to each other. They both had a lot to think about. When they reached the entrance, Steve muttered something about his sports bag left downstairs in the gym, but Natasha knew he just had to cool off, so she let him go.

She watched the soldier disappearing in the elevator and a sad sigh escaped her mouth.


Left, right. Left, right, right, left. Left, right, left, left, right.

Steve punched hard and with inhuman speed; this was his way of letting some steam off. How could he have said that? He was well aware it would scare her off.

The chains clattered and finally broke with a loud metallic sound. The punch bag landed on the floor of Avengers Tower's training room with a thud. Steve glanced at seven damaged punch bags and decided it was enough for this evening, so he grabbed his equipment and put it nice and tidy by the wall in a special chest.

He reached into his pocket and took out the watch. It was 1:17 am. Steve wiped the sweat off his forehead with the palm of his hand and emptied a whole bottle of cold water.

Then he turned off the lights at the gym and left for his room, intending to wash away the sweat and calm his burning muscles. Having entered the bathroom, he locked the door and stripped of his training clothes. He stepped into the shower and started washing himself vigorously, trying not to think what he would tell Natasha tomorrow.

Why did he have to be so stubborn and self-centred? He just invited her for a skating evening in the Park, for God's sake, something two friends would do in their free time. And not for a date – that was for sure.

"Oh, yeah, keep telling that to yourself." a silent voice whispered in his head.

But then… why did she answer the kiss? She could have pushed him away, she could have said "No, Steve, we shouldn't do that." but she didn't. He felt her eagerness, her yearning, her happiness.

On the other hand… why did she looked so shattered? Blaming this on the wine would be a childish thing to do.

He sighed and raised the temperature of the water. Steve hated cold water and always took hot showers; he turned on the rainshower so as to wash the shampoo away... and almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a quiet voice by his ear.

"You surely don't like cold showers, do you?"

He was so startled that he hit his head against the shower's sliding door and muttered a curse under his breath.

"God dammit... Natasha?! Is that you?"

"Whoa, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Very funny." he mumbled, finally getting rid of shampoo out of his eyes. "I'm not in the…"

Then he realized he was completely naked and Natasha was leaning against the door, watching him with this well-known smirk of hers. He couldn't understand why she didn't seem upset.

"Uh oh, Natasha... Do... Do you need anything?" he asked awkwardly, trying to cover himself with a towel, but as he might have expected – there was none. He started to suspect she might have had something to do with it.

"I remember closing those doors..." A late thought raced through his head. "How did she got here so silently anyway?"

Meanwhile, Natasha glanced below his waist and whistled.

"Well, well this serum did its job reaaaaally well." she said, winking at him.

Steve's face turned so red, that he almost looked like as if he had 3rd degree burns. And he was just taking shower after a simple workout. "Uh, if you don't mind... I'd like to finish..."

"I do, Rogers." she said and turned the key in the door.

Steve gulped down, feeling both a tingling and a burning sensation in his stomach. She was probably furious with him and now wanted a revenge.

"Wha-What?" he asked totally confused, but then Natasha approached him in two short leaps, as if she was a predator, wondering how to devour her prey.

"But she is, Rogers. You know that very well." He thought to himself backing away from her.

"Shhh." She whispered, pressing her finger against his lips. "I have a problem, and you're the one who can help me."

"A-Am I?" Steve stuttered, feeling completely stupefied before Natasha who was, again, dangerously close to him, now also wet from the hot streams of water. He was both flustered and ("Oh, my God!") excited at the same time, though he would never, ever admit it. The latter was of no consequence of course, as his excitement was far more visible then he was able to control it.

"These wet clothes are extremely uncomfortable." She muttered into his ear. "Would you mind...?"

"Uh, oh... I guess." he replied, unaware what he was doing nor what he was saying. His sense of rationality knocked around his mind but was no longer relevant, not when she was here.

"That's good, soldier."

Her fiery hair, turned scarlet as they soaked with water, her proximity felt as if he was in a dream, which he didn't want to wake up from. He could not believe he might have lost her... Soon her wet, tangled clothes were tossed aside, at the bathroom floor, and now she was narrowing the distance between them, pushing him against the glass wall of the shower cabin.

"Natasha... What... What are you doing?"

She didn't respond, instead putting her arms around his neck. Her lips were close, very close...

"Natasha... Nat."

Suddenly she stopped, just an inch away of his face.

"How did you call me?"

"You don't like it?"

"No, it's just... Say it again, please."

"Nat."

"Steve."

She pressed her lips against his, and Steve Rogers felt his world shatter into a million pieces, each of them filled with emotion and her.

Her soft, warm, eager lips tasted heavenly and suddenly he realized how he longed for this moment, how he depicted it countless of times in his dreams and how he shouldn't have reacted the way he did, at the park. He embraced her with his strong arms and lifted her up. She squealed in a surprise like a little girl, but was immediately silenced with a kiss – this time an initiative of the soldier.

He did not stop there however; Steve moved slowly from her lips towards the base of her neck, covering each inch of her smooth, rose-scented skin with tender kisses, bringing her to the brink of possibilities, while the world around them dissolved in hot water and equally burning emotions…

Natasha moaned with pleasure as he made his way towards her belly, worshiping her body in a way she just couldn't expect from the soldier.

After they came from their high…

"St-Steve!" She gasped, breathless. "I didn't know... You're not bad at this, you know?"

Steve looked into her emerald eyes with his crystal blue ones.

"Well... I have a good teacher." He winked at her, Romanoff-style, and brushed his lips against hers again, this time making the kiss a long passionate one, their tongues fighting for dominance in each other's mouths.

The super-soldier effectively took all of redhead spy's thoughts out of her mind.


"Where's Cap and Tasha?" Clint asked ravaging through the kitchen closets, in search of a night snack.

"Steve's probably at the gym, I dunno." Bruce said and accepted a beer from Tony.

"Lord Steven is training, in preparation for future battles, I am sure of it. That is what a true warrior would do." Thor stated in his deep voice, fiddling with Mjolnir's handle.

"Then why aren't you training as well?" Clint asked, crunching a butter cookie, which were Steve's specialty.

"I have trained enough in my life, lord Barton. And I am an Asgardian." Thor replied in a confident voice and shoved at least a dozen of butter cookies into his mouth, which earned him a look of respect from Clint.

"Well, it's Saturday night and they are both coincidentally absent, so..." Tony said and made a suggestive gesture.

Bruce shouted "TONY!" and glared at him while Clint and Thor laughed out loud (Thor almost suffocated himself).


"I'm betting 50 bucks that Stripes and little Red are currently veeeery preoccupied with each other." Tony said with a grin so wide, as if he got a Christmas present in July.

"One more word, and the other guy will put this party on fire." Bruce replied in a cold voice and turning slightly green, which made Tony jump like a frightened squirrel, accompanied by even louder laughter.


Steve made sure that spy's smallest toe was under the blanket, warm and cosy. Her head rested on his chest while he unknowingly stroked her still slightly wet hair.

"Nat?"

"Yes?"

"About that moment in the park. I…"

"I'm sorry, Steve… I shouldn't have…"

"Don't be, please. Now I understand a few things." Steve said with a sad smile. "Never wondered why I have no regard for my own life?" He asked blankly.

Natasha smiled faintly when she recalled how often she would shout at him for his reckless behaviour during missions, Barcelona being one of the thousand.

"Family, stability... Guy who wanted all that went into the ice 70 years ago. I think someone else came out."

Natasha raised her head and looked at him with commiserative expression. She tried to say something, but Steve sighed and continued:

"However, you Natasha proved me wrong, you proved that I still have a purpose in my life. You prove it to me every single day I look at you. That I deserve the second chance despite all those things which were taken away from me. It's what kept me going through all those years after defrosting."

He smiled bitterly and looked through the window. It was dark and cold out there, their ice skating was now nothing but a memory being covered by snow.

"Ironic. Captain America is not so perfect after all."

Natasha, terrified, glanced back at him. She has never heard such words from Steve nor did she ever expect him to say so, especially after what they just experienced.

"Please don't... Don't say that."

"It's okay Natasha, now I think I know who you really are to me..."

"And that is?" She asked so quietly that without his enhanced senses he would not able to detect it.

"Somebody to die for." Steve looked at her. "That's why I managed to take the impact of that bomb, that's why I was able to survive the tortures..."

Natasha turned her head, closing her eyes. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks spilling onto the ground. All her barriers – so meticulously built over the years – now crumbled and vanished into thin air. Steve cupped her face with his rough, soldier hands. He tucked a strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear and gently brushed the tears off her face, the corner of his mouth slowly rising in a knowing smile.

"I cannot live without you Natasha. After five years out of the ice I can finally admit that I'm back. I'm back because I you're by me side."

Despite her vision being a little blurry, she looked into his baby eyes, always so honest and unyielding, always so sparkling with the feeling she had so perseveringly rejected all her life.

"You're my home, Natalia. I love you." he said her true name for the first time. The tears began to flow freely and she couldn't help but to sob loudly.

"Gosh, she's so beautiful…" Steve thought to himself as he leaned down and kissed Natasha on her soft, wet, shivering lips, holding her gently in his arms. They deepened the kiss, equally yearning and eager, as Natasha buried her hand in Steve's hair, pushing him closer to her.

When they finally broke for air, Natasha, still crying, realized she felt as if living in another world. A place where she belonged. Where she would stay for a long, long time.

It was now simple. Why not give it a go?

"So do I Steve... So do I."


A/N: I hope you loved the fluff here as much as I did when creating this chapter. I wish you all have a great week. Peace! WS

PS: Special thanks goes to millerr123 for the review! Keep them up :)