After making the decision to spend the night together, Steve and Martha slowly made the journey from the Smithsonian back to his apartment. Once they slid off his bike, Martha reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. They walked closer than before and every so often she'd lean into him. Steve's heart banged in his chest and as soon as they were inside with the door was closed, they were in each other's arms once more.

Martha grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him down to her height, kissing him fervently. "Bedroom?" she questioned when they broke for air.

"That way," Steve answered quickly before diving in for another kiss. He placed his hands on her hips and guided her backwards through the apartment towards his bedroom.

They stopped just short of tumbling onto the bed and Martha took that moment to ease his leather jacket off his broad shoulders. Afterwards, she turned her back to Steve and allowed him to peel her denim jacket away. He ran his fingertips over her bare shoulders and placed soft kisses against her neck causing her to close her eyes and exhale slowly with a tiny shudder.

"Have you ever…?"

Steve kissed her neck again while he caressed her arms. "No."

Martha's body tensed at his words. "Never?" Even without seeing her face, the shock in her voice was unquestionable.

"Never."

Martha turned to face him wearing an earnest expression. "Seriously?"

Steve dropped his hands to his sides. "Not even once," he answered with a shrug. "I mean there was a waitress named Beth after the ice and she was great, but it never got that far."

"Oh."

Steve tilted his head to get a good look at her in the dim light of his bedroom. "Why? Is that a problem?"

Martha sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "It's not a problem. It's just…added pressure."

"Pressure," Steve repeated with a nod, taking a seat as well. "I can understand that."

Martha shifted her position on the bed so she could see his face. "Do you have questions or…"

"Martha," Steve interrupted. "I may be inexperienced in certain areas, but I'm not naïve. I know how it all works," he said, earning a quiet laugh from her. "Plus…" He reached for her hand. "I like to think of myself as a quick learner."

"Yea?" Martha's smile slowly returned and she gave his hand a gently squeeze. "Well here's hoping I make a good teacher."

Steve squeezed her hand back. "I'm willing to find out whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready," she assured him. "So ready. The question is…are you?"

If Martha needed proof of his readiness, Steve would happily give it to her. Without speaking another word, he eased his arm around her waist and drew her closer so he could kiss her. The moment he felt her reciprocate, Steve slipped his hand behind Martha's neck and deepened the kiss. "What does that tell you?" he asked breathlessly a moment later.

Martha ran a hand down his chest. "A lot actually, but I'd feel better if we both said the words aloud."

"In that case," Steve began as he pulled her onto his lap. "Martha Jones…" He lifted her chin so he could meet her brown eyes. "I want you," he said with a quiet intensity while his thumb traced her bottom lip.

Martha drew her lip between her teeth, chewing it nervously. "Are you sure?"

Steve stroked her chin with his thumb. "I'm positive. How about you?"

Martha nodded. "Yes," she confirmed before slipping her arms around his neck and pressing herself flush against his chest. Their lips joined again and they lost themselves in the moment. "Do you have something?" she asked between kisses a long while later. "Because I have one, if you don't."

Steve pulled back feeling slightly dazed from the abrupt cease in action. "Something?" he questioned. Martha looked at him expectantly and it occurred to him that she meant a condom. "Oh. Yea. No, I have one in my wallet," he said quickly. "I didn't want to be presumptuous, but…"

Martha shook her head and stroked his cheek. "No, it's good to be prepared. Safety is important."

Steve's hand moved up her thigh slowly and settled on her hip. "Your safety is important to me."

"And yours to me," Martha said softly before pressing her lips to his again.

Steve tightened his grip on her while they kissed. He never got tired of kissing her and she didn't seem to mind either. When they finally pulled apart for air, they were both breathing heavily. "I should get my wallet, right?"

"Definitely."

Steve loosened his hold on her, allowing her to stand up and remove her shoes. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and retrieved the tiny package. His eyes met hers and she moved back over to him with a smile, taking both items out of his hands and setting them on the nightstand.

With him still seated and her standing between his knees, Martha pulled Steve's shirt over his head and dropped it to the side then leaned in for a searing kiss. Steve's hands moved up her thighs and over her hips before slowly disappearing beneath her lacy tank top. She sighed against his mouth and lifted her arms so he could remove it completely. Once they were both shirtless, Steve took a moment to lose his shoes and socks and their jeans followed soon after before they eased back onto the bed in their underwear.

Falling into a side by side position, Steve took a moment to drink in the sight of her partially exposed body. Every line. Every curve. He needed to absorb every detail so he could commit it to paper later. "Wow…" he said breathlessly.

"What?" Martha asked with a tentative voice.

"You're beautiful," he told her as he traced the line from her lowest rib to the top of her hip. His touch was slow and gentle and his eyes focused on her with reverence. "Like the most perfect piece of art."

Martha rolled onto her back and exhaled slowly. "Isn't art usually just looked at and not touched?" she joked.

"Usually," Steve replied as his fingers continued to slowly dance across her skin.

"And yet…" Her breath hitched when he stroked her inner thigh. "Your hands are all over me."

Steve's hand stilled just below her navel but above the waistband of her underwear. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked seriously.

"God no," Martha protested, nudging his hand.

Steve smirked and resumed exploring her body. "Good, because I was just beginning to get in touch with my muse," he joked.

Martha let out a breathy chuckle. "You sound like Clint when you say things like that."

"Should I stop talking?"

"Not necessarily," Martha answered. "But they are better uses for your mouth in this situation."

Taking the hint, Steve smoothed his palm over her stomach as he lowered his lips to her neck where he applied a trail of kisses and gently suckled her skin. He continued his journey, taking a moment to remove the remaining layers of fabric when they hindered his task. Her body was a mystery, but every sigh and every moan and every twitch of her muscles provided a hint. Steve took his time learning and exploring until Martha made it perfectly clear that he knew what he was doing and that she wanted more.

When he reached her lips again, she greeted him with a lazy smile. "Found your inspiration have you?"

"I'm definitely feeling inspired," he confirmed before pressing a kiss to her mouth.

Martha moved beneath him, wrapping a leg around his back and gripping him tightly so she could roll them over. "Are you going to draw me?" she asked once their positions had shifted.

Steve had no problem letting Martha to take control. In fact, seeing her in that light only served to turn him on even more. He exhaled slowly and watched her tug his underwear downward. "I'd like to," he confessed in a husky voice.

Martha laughed softly, flinging his boxer briefs somewhere behind her. "I'll even let you draw me like one of those French girls," she joked, swinging a leg over both of his. The two of them resumed kissing and Steve gripped her hips tightly, loosening his hold only for a brief moment when she lifted up to retrieve the tiny packet on the nightstand. "Afterwards."