Author's Note: Three-shot. When Tony and Pepper leave for the summer, they ask Natasha and Steve to house-sit. The only thing is, neither one of them knows the other is going to be there. "It looks like we have some stuff to talk about, huh?" "Apparently." Unapologetic Romanogers. Set post-Snap, pre-Endgame. M for sex.
House Sitting
By Ninazadzia
"But friends turn into sleepovers
And sleepovers turn into love
Love turns into jealousy
And now we both fucked up…"
~ Stuck in Middle, Tai Verdes
Chapter One
Stuck in the Middle of Lovers and Friends
"Let me guess—Pepper told you she needed a house sitter, too?"
It took Steve a couple of seconds to respond. When he pulled up to Stark's cabin, he was fully prepared to spend three months in complete solitude. Truthfully, after working with support groups all spring, he was looking forward to spending his summer communing with nature, in the peaceful quiet of Tony and Pepper's 200-acre property.
He certainly wasn't expecting to see Natasha Romanoff on the front porch.
"No, actually, Tony did," he replied, dropping his bags to his feet.
He hadn't seen Nat since Tony and Pepper's wedding, a couple of months prior. They'd made small talk in passing, but truth be told, things had been a touch awkward between the two of them for a while now. They could thank Bruce Banner for that one, and for clunkily asking Natasha—shortly before the Snap—if there was something going on between her and Steve. She'd vehemently denied it, and while she'd certainly thought her conversation with Bruce was private, Steve had heard every word.
Nothing had happened between Steve and Nat when they were on the run (per se), but there was some definite tension. A look here, some flirtatious banter there. Nothing that crossed the line, nothing outright physical, but enough tension for Natasha's most recent ex to notice, and enough to warrant a response other than "Abso-fucking-lutely not" when confronted about it. At least from Steve's point of view.
He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on her conversation with Bruce, but at the same time, he had to address it with her. "I, um, don't really know how to bring this up—but I was walking into the other room, when I heard you and Bruce talking the other day…" he started.
If Nat was embarrassed, or surprised, she didn't let on. She wore a blank expression like armor. "You're going to have to jog my memory, Rogers. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You know… he asked you if there was anything going on between the two of us…"
"Oh, that?" She waved a hand dismissively. "What can I say. Bruce is an overthinker. Don't worry, I told him the truth." And at that point, she turned her attention back to Shuri, to help her work out a plan to remove the Mind Stone from Vision. And then all hell broke loose, and addressing the status of their relationship had fallen to the bottom of Steve's priority list.
Until—that was—the summer after the Snap.
"It's good to see you, Cap."
The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile, as she opened her arms up to him. He didn't hesitate before walking into them, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. She smelled exactly the way he remembered her to.
"You too, Nat," he murmured. He pulled away, soaking her in. Whatever they had left unspoken at the wedding, and before the Snap, it looked like they would have a good few months to talk it all out. "Why don't we get inside? I don't know about you, but I'm getting kind of hot."
Pepper was the one to notice something, at the wedding.
"You okay, Nat?"
Nat nodded, not taking her eyes off of the food in front of her. Of course the Starks had arranged for Nat and Steve to sit next to each other. Nat was Steve's closest friend left after the Snap, it made sense that they'd be at the same table, with place cards right next to each other. Yet he'd gone out of his way to keep himself as busy as possible that evening, making the rounds and talking to just about everyone in the room. Introverted, if not slightly awkward, Steve Rogers, had suddenly become the most gregarious person at the wedding.
Which, as far as Nat was concerned, could only mean one thing: he was purposely avoiding her.
Nat slowly started to nod, but then she turned to look at Pepper. If there was one thing she knew about Pepper, from all her years of putting up with Tony Stark's antics, it was that she wouldn't judge. Natasha motioned in Steve's direction. "We had sort of a weird moment, right before Thanos. We haven't really talked about it since."
"What do you mean 'weird moment'?"
Nat sighed. Fuck it, might as well tell Pepper the truth. "Bruce got it into his head that something happened between Steve and I, when we were on the run. He asked me about it, I told him no—and apparently Steve overheard us."
Pepper waited a moment before responding. "Did something happen?"
"What? No. No! Why does everyone keep thinking that?"
Pepper threw her hands up defensively. No, who was Natasha kidding—she sounded defensive.
"I just mean…" she cleared her throat, "Steve and I are close. That doesn't mean we're anything more than friends."
Pepper raised an eyebrow. "Does Steve know that?"
Natasha paused before responding. "I thought so. But now, I'm not so sure. I mean, you've seen him—he's barely said five words to me tonight."
Pepper shrugged. "It's really our first time getting together as a group, since everything happened. Maybe it's just that?"
"Maybe. But I don't think so."
At that exact moment, Steve walked by the table. Pepper dropped her voice, leaning in close to Nat. "Do you want me to ask Tony, see if he knows anything?"
Natasha shook her head, taking a swig from her wineglass. "No, thank you though. You're right, I think I'm just reading too much into it. And besides, we're all adults here—he can come talk directly to me, if he wants to address it."
Pepper knew better than the press further, so she pulled her mouth into a tight line, nodded, and politely changed the subject.
At the time, Natasha really thought Pepper had dropped it. One step through the threshold of Pepper and Tony's cabin proved otherwise.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Steve muttered under his breath.
They'd decked out the whole cabin with twinkle lights, candles, flowers, the works. Rose petals littered the front walkway, and it smelled like the whole compound had been infused with an herb of some kind—sage? Eucalyptus? Whatever it was, it was like Natasha and Steve had set foot in a spa. A very expensive, romantic spa.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nat noticed a sheet of paper, taped onto the fridge in the kitchen. She could just make out Tony's chickenscratch from across the room.
She motioned her head in the direction of the kitchen, putting her bags down before walking. "Looks like they've left us a little something."
Natasha managed to get to the note first. The second she lay eyes on it, her stomach dropped. Why the fuck did she have to point out to Steve that she noticed it?
"Well? What's it say?" he asked.
She chuckled, hoping she her laugh didn't sound half as nervous as she thought it did, before handing the sheet of paper over to him. Might as well rip the bandaid off, she figured.
Romanoff, Captain—
A bit of a confession to make—Pepper and I totally got our wires crossed. An epic miscommunication on our part, we didn't think either of you would seriously say yes to house-sitting for the summer, and we didn't confirm with one another when you both said that you would, so I'm gonna go ahead and assume that you're both in the cabin together. If that's the case, swell, we've decked it out just to be safe.
In any case, we're out of the country, so good luck trying to reach us via cell. Instructions on how to take care of the foliage is on top of the dresser. Please try your best to keep at least 50% of the plants alive, and if you do, I'll gift you half the property + name our firstborn after you both.
Tony
PS. If you're so inclined, to get the mood going—there's vino in the fridge for you, Romanoff, and a bottle of blue bombers in the nightstand for you, Rogers. We swear we won't tattle.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Are blue bombers…?"
"Yeah," Steve said with a sigh, color rushing to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. He could practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest, it was racing so quickly. "You know, for the longest time, I was convinced it was Adderall."
Nat laughed. "That actually makes sense."
"Considering it was Tony too who was referring to them," Steve shrugged, "I figured that's what it had to be."
"Huh. So that's the secret to Stark's super-genius—amphetamines."
"Among other things, apparently."
They didn't say anything for a moment. Romanoff was looking at him, intently, but Steve couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of the note. "To get the mood going." Between that, the unmistakably romantic ambiance of the cabin, and the direct reference to Viagra, there wasn't any room for subtlety, with that implication.
Tony and Pepper had set them up.
Nat was the first person to break the silence. "It looks like we have some stuff to talk about, huh?"
"Apparently." Steve cleared his throat. "Why don't you pour yourself a glass of wine, and I'll get started on dinner? We can talk while we cook."
She nodded, before quickly stopping. "You know what—if it's okay with you, I think I'm gonna jump in the shower first. Long drive…do you mind?"
Steve shook his head. "Not at all."
Natasha had the water turned to every temperature imaginable—lukewarm, ice cold, hot, it didn't matter. She could feel the heat practically pulsating off her skin, her heart was pounding so quickly.
It wasn't like her to get this nervous about anything, much less a conversation with a member of the opposite sex. Then again, that had always been the appeal of Steve for her, hadn't it? How she could never fully read him—how there was always a part of him that she knew he'd buried away, deep down, a part that she'd long ago realized was only safe for one person. A part of him he was saving for the woman he'd loved seventy years ago.
She knew that a part of him would always be holding out for Peggy Carter.
She'd accepted as much six years ago, when they first worked together post-Battle of New York, and she'd spent the better part of a weekend lobbying flirty remarks at him. And then she'd kissed him on the escalator, and immediately, she could tell he was holding back. Whatever part of him was stunned, it wasn't enough to account for how stony his lips felt against hers. And when she'd asked if that had been his first kiss since 1942, and she asked him who he wanted her to be, she knew—she knew he would never fully be hers. That he'd locked part of his heart away in 1942, with Peggy Carter, and it was best to just leave things be and remain friends. Coworkers, of course, and close friends, sure—but never anything more. Never anything beyond that.
She stood under Tony Starks' state-of-the-art shower for what seemed like ages. Things had changed, though, hadn't they? For Steve to react the way that he did… for him to look at her the way he did, when he pulled up to the cabin…
It's lust.
The thought went through her head fleetingly—but there it was. She'd seen that look from him before. When she'd told him about the Winter Soldier, and had mused, "Bye bye, bikinis," and he immediately shot back, "yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now," with his body pressed up against hers as he pinned her to a wall. She could practically feel him harden against her midsection. She'd seen it again more than a few times, when they were on the run—it would always be when he thought she wasn't paying attention or wouldn't notice. It wouldn't be much more than a glance here, a lingering stare there…but it was enough to validate what she'd long thought had been the case.
For whatever Steve Rogers' feelings for Peggy Carter were, and however superhuman he was, one things remained clear: at the end of the day, he was still a man with physical wants and needs. And he wanted Natasha—maybe but not in soul, but in body.
And in that moment, it clicked. Natasha turned the faucet off. She took a deep breath, grabbed a towel, and looked at her reflection in the mirror.
She stepped outside of the bathroom.
To tell the truth of it, Steve was glad he had a good twenty minutes to gather his composure, while Nat rinsed off.
Okay, so clearly, Natasha had said something to Pepper—because Steve hadn't said anything to Tony. Well, that wasn't entirely true, Tony himself brought up Bruce's theory about Steve and Nat—which Steve shut down maybe a little too quickly. "We're just friends, Tony," he'd said, a little more emphatically than he'd meant to.
"That's so weird," Tony replied. "Because I'm telling you, Bruce was convinced you two had to have been boning the whole time you were on the run together."
"And what gave him that impression?"
Tony shrugged. "Something about your body language, when he saw you two. To tell the truth of it, I didn't notice anything different from normal, but I thought you guys have been boning this whole time."
Steve snorted, "yeah, right."
He'd thought about that conversation a dozen times over, those last few months. Had there been something different, between him and Nat? Sure, they'd seen some shit when they were on the run together—they were each other's support system, the only person the other had to really lean on. Steve had always figured it was companionship, a partnership of sorts. And, sure, Natasha was attractive, beautiful even—but the fact remained, nothing ever really happened between the two of them.
Nothing yet, at least.
Steve stopped short, forcing himself to step away from the stovetop. He couldn't even remember what he'd been in the middle of doing—filing up a pot of water? Shit, he wasn't even sure if Tony and Pepper had pasta in the pantry. It would help for him to check.
As he turned to look into the pantry, he saw Natasha, standing in the doorframe. Her hair was soaked, and she wore nothing but a towel.
Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. "Forget something?" he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.
"I just…" she played with the edge of her towel, biting her lower lip. "…what do we really have to talk about, Steve?"
Steve froze. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well—Tony and Pepper clearly thought there was something between us, when they arranged this. And you already know that Bruce did, too."
Steve nodded, slowly. Natasha's wet hair was dripping onto the floor, leaving pools of water right by her feet. "If I remember correctly, you shut those assumptions down."
"Yeah, I did," she said with a sigh. "But that was before…"
She trailed off, her words hanging in the air. She didn't have to elaborate. Before the War. Before Thanos. Before half of the universe was snapped out of existence.
It definitely put things in perspective, the way everything had happened in the last year.
"You're right," Steve said slowly, inching closer to her. "It was before."
This time, it was Natasha's turn to take a step closer to him. "If I'm being completely honest," she started, dropping the towel, revealing herself to him completely. "I always wondered, what it would be like. Have you?"
He shook his head, his face flushing crimson. Liar. "Not once," he said. And then he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "especially not right now."
The corners of her mouth turned up into a smirk. "Would you like to find out?" she murmured.
Steve could practically feel the beads of sweat as they formed on the back of her neck. Because, fuck, she was radiant. She was every bit as strong and curvy and athletic as he imagined her to be, equal parts feminine and lethal. It was enough to make him hard the moment she dropped her towel.
"I just have one question, I need you to answer first," he started slowly, taking another step towards her. He measured his next words carefully, removing his belt as he did. "What happens when we wake up tomorrow?"
"The way I see it, Rogers," she motioned around her, "Tomorrow is three months from now, when Pepper and Tony come home. We have this whole property to the two of us for the summer." This time, she took a step towards him. "We'll have all the time in the world tomorrow for talking, if we feel so inclined."
She was all of inches away from him, at this point. Her hands were on his hips, and he reached over to cup her face. They hadn't seen each other much, since the Snap. He'd forgotten how beautiful her eyes were. How easily he could get lost inside of them.
"We'll see how much talking we get to," he whispered against her lips, finally closing the space between them.
The last time he'd kissed her, it had been clunky, awkward, and a ploy to keep their cover they tried to run away from Hydra agents. He wasn't prepared. He wasn't in the moment, wasn't able to fully drink her in. This time, he felt all of her. Felt the fire behind her lips, felt her hands as they travelled to the back of his head, down his neck, felt her soft breasts as they pressed up against his chest. He felt all of her, and the at the same time, he wanted more.
More.
"More?" she whispered back at him. He hadn't realized he'd said it out loud.
He nodded, wrapping his arms around the back of her legs, pulling her up so she was straddling him. She furiously trailed kisses from his mouth to his neck to his collarbone, grabbing his hair by the fistful, not bothering to duck her head under the doorframe as he carried her across the kitchen and back towards the bedroom.
As he threw her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, she couldn't help but compare him to Bruce. It almost wasn't fair, how different they were—every time she lay with Bruce, he'd always been so measured, so cautious. He was terrified of letting out the monster inside of him, afraid that if he got too swept up in the moment, he would turn on a dime and hurt her. So their lovemaking had always been the slow, careful sort, the kind where she could tell he wanted more, wanted to throw her down and blow her back out, but would never let himself cross that line—he would never be able to give him the raw, passionate fuck that she wanted.
Steve Rogers had no such qualms.
"It's always the quiet ones," she laughed against his neck as he buried himself inside of her, thrusting and simultaneously rubbing her clit. He shut her up with a kiss, biting her bottom lip as he did so. The lower half of her body shook as she took him, thrust after the thrust, the waves of pleasure radiating through her body.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, hugging her hips in as close to his as they could get. "Fuck, Natasha," he breathed, "You keep that up and I won't be able to stop myself from coming inside of you."
"Then do it," she dared him.
He pulled away, looking her in the eye. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Steve. I want you to give it to me."
That was all the permission he needed as he released, riding a wave of ecstasy as he could feel her tighten around him. Afterward, he lay down next to her, beads of sweat dripping onto the silk sheets of their bed. She'd propped her head up against his shoulder.
He leaned over, kissing the top of her forehead. "Can I ask you something?" he whispered.
"Sure," she responded, her voice hoarse.
"How long have you wanted to do that for?"
She sighed, running a hand through her grown-out blonde hair. Her red roots had been poking through for a while now. "Jesus, if I answer that honestly, promise not to judge me."
"Of course."
He'd figured it was when they were on the run, once things with her and Bruce had ended, and they had all of those quiet nights together hiding out from the police in Eastern Europe. Maybe right after Ultron, before everything went down with him and Stark, but certainly not before. A fleeting thought during their weekend in DC, sure, but nothing strong enough for her to seriously consider acting on. Otherwise, they probably would have done it then—and her and Bruce never would have happened.
"During the Battle of New York, when you propped me up and helped me get up to the Chitauri—right after that, we all went out for shawarma."
She paused, letting her words hang in the air. His throat had suddenly gone dry. "I remember," he replied.
"Anyway… Barton kept looking over at me. He could tell there was something going on, at least with me. You were so fucking clueless—I don't think anyone on the team really noticed, the only reason Barton did is because he knows me so fucking well." She shrugged, "Then again, though, for what it's worth, he didn't think anything was going on with me and Bruce."
"What do you think the difference there was?"
She raised an eyebrow. "What, between you and Bruce?"
"If you don't mind me asking," he added quickly. He didn't want to press further, if they were venturing into uncomfortable territory.
She sighed, thinking a moment before responding. "I just… I understand Bruce. We're a lot more alike than we are different, if that makes sense. It felt safe."
His heart raced as he asked his next session. "And with me?"
She laughed. "Honestly, Rogers. I'm still trying to figure that one out."
"…'Cause we're stuck in the middle of lovers and friends
And we're losing every part of the benefits
You hurt me more than I ever knew
But it's shitty 'cause I'm doing the same to you…"
Author's Note: Chapter Two will be set towards the end of the summer, based on the Arctic Monkey's "I Wanna Be Yours."
xo Nina
