1 a.m. – Avengers Compound

Earphones in, I cranked up the music loud enough to hurt anyone's eardrums. I had a routine to follow tonight while everyone was asleep. First, I needed to stretch my muscles to prevent soreness later today. Second, time to warm up – head rolls, lunges, stretching of the upper body. Third, the first actual warm up dance. Finally, the full out dancing. I didn't know how many songs I'd get through.

If you couldn't tell, tonight would be all about letting go and having music thrum through my body. With it being so late, there would be no one to see, no one to judge. I planned these workouts specifically like this because I didn't want the others to know my secret. I loved to dance, just not in front of anybody. Especially not the Avengers. Well, except for weddings and the occasional outing with Wanda and Natasha. Before I became part of the team, the dancing was limited to talent shows, high school, and lessons when I was in elementary school.

Soon, it became exclusive to dancing alone in my apartment until Tony Stark came to recruit me. Until I moved into the compound with them. Not that I was useful to them. For missions, at least. I didn't have any special ability or qualifications to allow me to join them on missions. I trained with them anyway to have some sort of self-defense if it came down to it. I wasn't equipped with super-soldier serum, wasn't a highly skilled assassin, or blessed with other powers. Also, I wasn't secretly a God like Thor or Loki.

My days were spent running errands or organizing files; Tony had his papers in a mess, and I arranged them in a way for him to locate better. The only skill proving useful in my repertoire happened to be cuddling. No, I wasn't a professional or anything, but one of my friends had informed Tony about the cuddling. Apparently, he had deemed it necessary and came over to my apartment to see for himself. After one session, he hired me to become the Avengers' official cuddle buddy. No, there was nothing sexual about it. I wasn't their sex buddy; I only provided comfort in the form of touch.

It was my personal favorite option and I'd find myself cuddling those who didn't go on certain missions during the week. That being said, there were a couple of the team who chose not to participate for various reasons; Clint, Bruce, Vision, and Steve. That's right. Steve Rogers. Captain America. He never indulged in the comfort of cuddling. Though he never gave me a reason why he didn't enjoy it, I respected his decision not to. Consent is everything in the world of touch.

It didn't stop me from imagining what it would be like to cuddle him, but I resigned myself to knowing it would never happen. That, however, didn't stop me from developing a crush on the man. Who didn't have a crush on him? The blond hair, the great physique, the all-around good man. You'd be lying if you didn't have an attraction to him. While I was hanging around him, I pushed all thought of cuddling away unless I was currently entwined with one of them. I kept telling myself there was no way he'd agree to it. Or so I thought.

Now, I know you're not supposed to have favorites when indulging in activities that provided comfort. That you're supposed to treat people with the equality others deserved. Knowing this fact, it didn't prohibit me from gravitating to certain people. Wanda was the top of the list; her small, lithe body pressed against mine was the best thing in the world. She was always warm, and I loved playing with her hair. Plus, she had a quilt she loved to have accompany us during our sessions.

Next on the list was…Loki. Of all people, I would have never thought he enjoyed the comfort of mortals. But he did. At first, he resisted; a scowl was etched on his face every time he walked into the living room and saw someone cuddling with me. In fact, they all did in the beginning, skeptical of my intentions. Never relaxing, always cautious. Tony had to be the one to convince to take a risk.

The first time it happened with Loki began on a stormy day. I mean, a normal, non-Thor causing stormy day. We were in the living room, his nose in a book as usual. The dark storm clouds were visible from the window behind him. He chose the armchair in the corner of the room to be as far away from anyone as possible. The time; the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday. I'd taken up position on the L-shaped couch, curled up with hot cocoa, a dash of Irish cream mixed in. I had my latest knitting project with me, stretched out over the blanket that covered my legs.

I glanced over at him briefly, noting the tension held in his limbs. Keeping quiet, the only sounds being the clacking of needles and pages turning, I stretched out my legs. At the first clap of thunder, I heard a sharp intake of breath from my companion. I shifted my gaze to him for a moment; more tension locked up his body. Loki doesn't like thunder, I thought. Returning to my stitches, I decided to say something.

"If the storm is bothering you, you're welcome to come cuddle with me. I heard it's the best when someone is frightened. It's quite comforting," I offered. I didn't expect him to say yes right away.

"No, thank you. I'm fine," he grumbled.

"You don't look fine," I murmured.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing,"

The silence dragged out for a few more minutes, another flash of lightning lit the sky outside. A rumble of thunder echoed through the compound, the same gasp escaping his lips. I tried again.

"You know, Loki. No one's here. Not even your brother. They're out on a mission, if I remember correctly. No one to see you cuddling with the official cuddle buddy. If you need comfort, any sort of thing at all-,"

"Put down those needles. Let me lay in your lap," Loki demanded, cutting me off. I complied, putting my project on the table behind me. Loki laid in my lap, closing his eyes. He pulled my hands up into his hair, as if he wanted me to run them through his raven locks. This led to him being a regular buddy of mine. He got to the point of not caring if anyone watched, melting like snow on a warm spring day in my lap.

In third place was Bucky, who craved attention once every week, always on a Saturday. All he wanted was for me to sit against him, my legs in his lap. He linked one arm with mine, the other hand lacing his fingers with my free hand.

Back to the present. I was working through a faster song, pushing myself to work up a sweat. I wanted to be worn out when I headed to bed; I wanted to be able to pass out and not dream about anything. Thanks to the loud music, I didn't hear approaching footsteps into the training room. I didn't see who it was, practicing a pirouette that had me landing opposite of the entrance.

If I had, I would've remembered that Steve had gone on a mission four days earlier; that he was meant to return late at night. Instead, I jumped when someone tapped my shoulder. Spinning around – ready to attack an enemy – my fist connected with a set of rock-hard abs. A pair of bright blue eyes met the dark stormy blue of my own; a hint of amusement showed itself on his features. Pausing the music, I quickly yanked out my earphones.

"Steve. Did you just get in?" I greeted him.

"Tessa. Yeah. Well, about ten minutes ago. I saw the light on in here on the way to bed. Thought I'd better investigate. Are…are you dancing? In the middle of the night?" he replied, raising his eyebrows. Heat flushed my face. I retreated to grab my water bottle.

"No," I took a long drag of the cold liquid. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's because I saw you do a pirouette and other dance moves before you turned into it," My body went rigid and I forced myself to take another sip of water.

"Do you always dance late at night?" he continued.

"Maybe. What's it to you?" I answered.

"Nothing, at all. Only curious. I didn't know it needed to be something to hide,"

"We all have our secrets, Steve. I prefer not to make a fool of myself in front of others," I said, turning to face him. I placed a hand on my hip, hoping he'd leave me in peace.

"For what it's worth, you're not half bad,"

"Thanks. I guess," His compliment threw me. It also didn't help I hadn't gotten over the crush on him. Though, I figured with his busy lifestyle, he wouldn't have time to date…anyone. Not to mention, I doubted he felt the same way. More silence followed and he still hadn't left the room.

"Is there something else I can help you with?" I asked. Steve stared me down and I wondered if he might be nervous about something. He broke my gaze and shook his head. He made to leave, stopping in the doorframe. His body heaved as he let out a sigh.

"Steve? Everything ok? You know you can talk to me," I said.

"Yes. No. Can…I can't believe I'm about to do this. Can you do me a favor?" he answered.

"Depends on what it is,"

"It's not terrible. I…will you come to my room? I'd like to…cuddle…with you," he said.

"You're asking to be cuddled? You? I thought you didn't like cuddling," I stated.

"If you don't want to, I understand. It's just…I can't sleep. I tried to on the way back. I thought maybe…Never mind. You can continue what you were doing," he said. His shoulders slumped and there was an edge of sadness to his tone. I sighed and decided to give him what he desired.

"Give me ten minutes. I'd rather not be sweaty during our session. I'll bring one of the large blankets. Try to get comfortable," I said. I gathered my things and walked with him down the hallway. I had to go up a floor, our rooms not located next to each other's. Locking my door, I stripped down, leaving a trail of clothes leading to the bathroom. Cleaning off and drying my dark brown hair as much as possible, I changed into pajama leggings and a black tank top before meeting Steve in his room.

I brought down my favorite, large, fluffy, blue blanket for this purpose alone. I had him prop up some of his larger pillows and spread out the blanket on top of his comforter. The fluffier the space, the better. We sat side by side, getting comfortable with each other.

"I need you to tell me what you like best, what you don't. Tell me what you'd like me to do during this session," I told him. He looked over at me, a surprised expression on his face.

"I don't know what I like. Believe it or not, this is my first time doing anything like this," he informed me.

"Okay. Alright. Uh, let me think. Why don't we start by sitting side by side for a few minutes? Focus on our breathing. Do you mind if I touch your arm?"

"I don't mind at all. Do whatever you think feels right? You have my permission," We focused on breathing, taking time to quench any uneasiness; I wanted him to be able to break down his barriers and open up to my presence. I wanted him to be able to rest after this session. Taking his arm, I used a feather light touch to stroke his skin. I needed him to get used to the affection, to my touch.

"Let me know if you want to move on to something different,"

"What do you recommend, Tessa?"

"Why don't we try something with you against me? Come lay down between my legs. Tilt your head back against my chest," I instructed. He hesitated leaning back.

"I can take your weight, Steve. Trust me. You'll be fine," I told him. He let out a shaky breath, leaning back.

"Place your hands on my legs or wherever you feel comfortable putting them. Don't worry about getting familiar with me. In fact, I'd prefer you touching me. I don't mind. Be sure to let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable,"

"Okay," he said. He let his hands rest against my legs, his thumbs stroking the fabric and closed his eyes.

"Would you like me to run my hands through your hair? Maybe caress your face?" I asked. It's important to check in with those you're cuddling with, to make sure they're okay with some of the suggestions. I didn't want to force him to do something he didn't want to.

"Could you do both?"

"Sure. If it's what you want," I gently caressed his face, moving my hands up to card my fingers into his blond hair. I continued this method until he wanted to move to the next position. Steve asked to have our limbs entwined, my head on his chest. I traced a line on his arm, being soft with my fingers. We kept switching positions; his head on my thighs as I was wrapped around him, his head in my lap while stretched out, spooning. We settled down beneath the fluffy blanket, Steve's head on my chest, one arm draped across my torso; I continuously ran my hands through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

Steve's breathing even out and he snuggled closer. It prompted me to turn out the light, falling asleep beside him.

Light peeked in through the blinds and I shut my eyes tighter against it. Groaning, I opened them and peered down at my sleeping companion. Steve was still in the same position, his lips parted open, completely relaxed. He looked more peaceful while he slept, and I dared not move lest I woke him. My hunger had other ideas. My stomach growled in protest and I sighed, hating that I needed to fix breakfast.

"Steve. Wake up. I need to eat something," I said. He grumbled and tightened his grip, preventing me from moving at all.

"Five more minutes," he said in a groggy voice. I stroked his face, trying to rouse him.

"I'll fix waffles if you get up," He released a sigh and unraveled his body from mine.

"Fine. Make them chocolate chip and I'll let you go," he negotiated.

"Deal," I got up and made my way to the kitchen, I prepared the ingredients to make the batter, spooning some into the waffle maker. While I waited, I put on some music and swayed to the beat while they first one was cooking.

"As I said, you're not half bad," Steve said. I turned, smacking into his chest. He steadied me, his resting on my hips. My shirt had ridden with my dancing to expose a thin strip of skin; The heat of his skin against mine caused a stirring within me – an intense one that had me blushing.

"Thank you for the cuddles last night," he said.

"No problem,"

"They made realize what I've been missing all along,"

"Oh. What's that? Comfort?" I asked, turning to pull out the first of many waffles. I poured more mix into the machine, pressing down to make the next one.

"No. It turns out the thing that I'm missing is you," he replied. I dropped the spatula, the utensil landing on the floor. I bent down to pick it, Steve beating me to it. He tossed it into the sink, handing me another from one of the storage containers. Our fingers brushed; he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. His head bent to capture my lips in a kiss. They were soft, warm and I couldn't help but to pull him closer still. My free hand snaked up to his neck, moving to card my fingers in his hair. I gave it a quick tug, the motion allowing me to slip my tongue inside his mouth.

"The waffle is going to burn," Steve said, managing to pull away before we did anything else.

"Waffles. Right," I stated, turning my attention to finishing up breakfast.

"I've been meaning to ask you. Would you like to go on a date with me? Tomorrow night? We can go to dinner," he whispered in my ear, his arms encircling my waist; He rested his head on my shoulder, watching me cook.

"I'd like that," I answered. I turned my head to give him another kiss.

"Waffles! Hey, what are you two doing?" a voice greeted us. We turned to spot Sam walking into the kitchen. The smell of waffles was sure to draw out the other members of the team and it appeared the first victim had arrived. I met Steve's eyes, grinning.

"We're cuddling," we answered.

"Uh huh. Looks like you're doing more than just cuddling," he teased. We laughed at his comment, the start of an exciting relationship brewing between Steve and me.