The last three days had been a blur for everyone. Between the debriefs, reunions, cleanup and tending to the wounded, Steve had hardly slept. He also hadn't had the opportunity to be alone with Natasha. He was on his way to her room when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. The name on the screen stopped him dead on the stairwell.
His hand shook as he raised the phone to his ear, "Pepper?"
"Steve, hey," her voice was thick with exhaustion and worry.
"Is he…?" Steve couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He knew that despite Danvers absorbing part of the snap, Tony's chances of survival were slight.
Pepper released a long, shaky breath on the other end of the line, "He's awake."
Tears of relief sprang to Steve's eyes. He sat down on the staircase and pressed the heel of his free hand into his forehead. "Oh, thank God."
"He's not completely lucid, yet. It'll take some time, but the doctors believe he'll recover."
"Have you talked to anyone else?" The entire team had been waiting for any news about Tony. Rhodey, who had taken up vigil at the hospital with Pepper, Morgan, Happy and Peter, had been giving them daily updates.
"No. I wanted to talk to you first," she said. "I was going to give Nat a call in a minute."
"Do you mind if I tell her? I can let the rest of the team know, too. You focus on Tony and Morgan and try to get some rest."
"I appreciate that, Steve."
"Pepper," his voice was soft and full of gratitude. "Thank you for calling me."
"I know you and Tony didn't always see eye to eye, but you have to know what you mean to him. He's always considered you family," she said. "Even right after the Accords, when he was so blinded by grief and anger, he never stopped caring about you. We talked a lot about you and about what happened, and he eventually understood why you kept Barnes' involvement in his parents' death a secret. He forgave you a long time ago."
Steve sighed deeply and hung his head. Tony showing up at the compound with the shield and the time-space GPS had marked the end of any lingering resentment, but knowing they'd spent so many unnecessary years in turmoil broke his heart. "Why didn't he call?"
Pepper laughed lightly, "You know how stubborn he is, Steve. Sometimes Tony can't get out of his own way."
Steve chuckled, "He and I are more alike than I think either of us wants to admit."
They exchanged goodbyes, and he tucked the phone back into his pocket. Tony was awake. He was going to recover. The war had extracted a toll, that much was certain. The armies that fought alongside them had experienced many casualties, but Steve couldn't help the relief he felt that no one else he loved had died battling Thanos.
After a few minutes, Steve stood and continued toward Natasha's room. The door was shut, which was unusual, and he'd barely knocked once before it flew open. Natasha was standing in front of him with an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes were wide, and it looked as if she'd been crying; her jaw was set with determination.
Steve reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. He furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Was she still angry with him? Or maybe worried about Tony?
"Nat, he's ok. Tony's ok."
"I know. Rhodey called."
In one effortless motion, Natasha pulled Steve into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. His back met the wall with a thud at the same time her lips crashed into his.
It was like his brain had short-circuited. He recalled the only other time she'd kissed him – in a busy shopping mall, trying to evade HYDRA. Natasha had clocked Rumlow's presence on the opposite side of the escalator before he did.
She didn't hesitate when she turned to face him and said, "Kiss me."
"What?"
Steve was so taken aback that he almost forgot they were in the middle of a mission. It hadn't crossed his mind until that very moment that it was even a possibility. His instincts always told him to engage and fight, because he was a soldier. She'd thought of another way, though. Of course, she did. She was the spy.
"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable."
He stared down at her hard, searching her eyes, "Yes, they do."
Before Steve had time to react, Natasha was pulling him down by the back of the neck to meet her lips. He hadn't even realized that his own hand had come to rest on her waist. His fingers grazed the skin on her hip where her shirt had lifted slightly, and he had to stop himself from jerking his hand. Something inside Steve broke free in that moment. Natasha had always been flirtatious with him, but she was that way with almost everybody. The kiss didn't feel like a cover. It felt familiar and real.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. She turned back around and started down the escalator, with Steve following closely behind.
"You still uncomfortable?" Natasha asked smugly, suppressing a knowing grin.
Steve huffed out a breath and tried to regain his composure. He could still feel her skin against his fingertips, "That's not exactly the word I would use."
Nat's mouth moving over his brought Steve back to the present. He had thought about this very moment a thousand times. The moment when he'd kiss Natasha Romanoff for real, how it would feel to have her body pressed against him, her tongue tangled with his. No ruse, no mission, just them. Now he knew, and he was ruined.
He slid one hand into the hair at the nape of Natasha's neck, the other wound around the small of her back, drawing her flush against his chest. Her hands moved deftly over him, through his hair, along the days-old stubble on his face, down his hard chest and gripping at the thin cotton of his tee shirt. Her hands continued their descent, and Steve aware of himself when her knuckles brushed the bare skin on his abdomen. He realized then that she was lifting the hem of his shirt.
Steve broke the contact, placing his hands over her much smaller ones. "Nat…"
Natasha's breathing was labored, and her voice was barely a whisper. "Don't you want this?"
He looked down into her green eyes. They were as open as Steve had ever seen them, filled with need and intensity and vulnerability. He dropped his hands from hers and tilted her face up to his. Her hands stayed fisted in his shirt, "Of course I do."
"Then what is it?"
Steve pressed his forehead lightly against hers and closed his eyes. He didn't know where to begin, "I just … I don't know. I just don't want to rush this."
"Rush this?" Natasha leaned back ever so slightly and raised a teasing eyebrow. "I'd hardly call whatever it is that we've been doing for the last eight rushing."
An affectionate smile spread across Steve's lips. He placed his hands on either side of Natasha's neck, just under her jaw and met her gaze. "Ok, fine. You have a point."
She smiled broadly and leaned up to press her lips against his again. Winding her arms around his neck, her hands found their way back into his hair. He groaned against her mouth as she lightly scraped her nails against his scalp. She deepened the kiss, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling another groan from his throat.
"Natasha, fuck."
She smiled against his mouth, "Language, Rogers."
When Steve pulled back to look at her this time, all reason slipped away. The thing he'd known for years but would never admit finally felt like the only thing that mattered, and he couldn't have stopped his next words even if he wanted to.
"I love you."
Natasha stilled against him, her hands dropping from his hair to rest against his chest. She could feel his heart hammering beneath her palms and wondered if he could tell how fast hers was beating, too. The words came so easily to him. She looked up into his eyes and knew that nothing had ever been truer.
She'd always been afraid of this admission, of having to accept that their feelings for one another were real. She was afraid because if she said it out loud, then she'd have to be vulnerable; she'd have to stop hiding behind surface-level flirtation and humor to keep him at arm's length. Steve's admission came with no expectations; Natasha knew that, just like he knew she'd never said those words to another person in any real way.
If he hadn't been looking at her then with such unwavering adoration she might have let the moment pass. Natasha Romanoff was a lot of things, but a coward wasn't one of them. She took a long breath and decided if she was ever going to lay herself bare for anyone, it would be him.
"I love you, too, Steve."
Steve's brilliant blue eyes darkened with need, and his mouth was back on hers in an instant. He lifted her up by her backside, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his shirt up over his head as he walked them toward the bed.
He dropped her down lightly onto her back, but with her legs still wrapped around him, Natasha flipped Steve over with ease, straddling his hips. He bucked his hips up into her and slid his hands over her thighs and up her sides, pulling her long-sleeved shirt up and off. His fingers traced lightly over the bare skin of her arms, catching the sides of her still-covered breasts and sending a shiver through her body.
Unwilling to waste any more time, Steve gripped her by the waist and pulled her down into another searing kiss. Without breaking their lips apart, Natasha reached between them for Steve's belt buckle, wondering if he'd stop her again. When he didn't, she sat up slightly, her fingers tracing over the soft hairs that trailed down his stomach and disappeared below the waistband of his jeans, "Am I about to take Captain America's virginity?"
Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, pretending to be insulted. He raised a mischievous eyebrow and switched their positions, so Natasha was pinned beneath him. He leaned in, bracing himself against the bed on his left hand and sliding the right up to rest gently against her throat. His voice was deep and low, and his breath ghosted across her cheek. "I don't know, Romanoff. What's your gut telling you?"
Her eyes roamed appreciatively over Steve's half-naked body. She flashed him that signature smirk and ran her hands up his muscular arms and shoulders, enjoying the goosebumps her fingers left in their wake. "That you were a 20-something solider on a USO tour, and you look like, well ... this."
Steve smiled broadly and lowered himself to his forearms. He began peppering open-mouthed kisses along the smooth column of Natasha's neck, and she let out an involuntary gasp when he stopped to run his tongue over the sensitive dip between her neck and collarbone.
"Jesus, Rogers."
She didn't know, nor care, when Steve had taken her pants off but was suddenly aware that she was completely naked, and he was not. Natasha reached for his belt again, this time not stopping until the rest of his clothes were in a pile next to hers.
Immediately, Natasha's fingers began a moving south again against his body, wanting nothing more than to finally touch him, but Steve caught her hand in his and pinned it to the bed above her head. He shook his head and in a low voice, whispered, "Not yet, Romanoff."
"Not nice," Her tone was playful, but the man was driving her crazy, and he knew it. Natasha's entire body hummed with anticipation. She felt absolutely conductive.
She wanted him closer. She wanted to feel him.
Natasha knew Steve wouldn't be selfish in bed, but after so much buildup and tension, she expected their first time together to be frenetic. It wasn't. He took his time with her, intentional with every touch, every kiss, every movement. He committed every inch of her to memory, taking care to ensure she felt as good as she made him feel.
"How is he so fucking good at this?" Natasha thought as Steve continued his exploration of her body. She forced her eyes open, watching as he nipped lightly at her hipbones and settled in between her thighs. His eyes met hers, and he smiled knowingly. Without breaking eye contact, Steve turned his head slightly to kiss her inner thigh.
Natasha wasn't used to giving a man control over her, especially not when it came to sex, but this wasn't just any man. For better or for worse, they were tied to one another. Steve Rogers had lit a white-hot fire within Natasha that she hoped would never burn out.