A/N- big day for me- I finished the semester, so here's a mid-week treat for you!

XO,

Blue

I got up from the bed and turned on the space heater in the wall in the bathroom and I got out a fresh washcloth to wet down with hot water.

In the bedroom, Steve looked almost high as I came back to wipe him off.

"My sweet Dani," he muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. "You surprise me every time."

"You too," I said softly, feeling the chill in the air. "Let me get the space heater lit." I grabbed my pajama t-shirt and put it on before lighting the tea light.

Steve was still on top of the covers. I tugged on the covers and pulled them back. "I think you were worth waiting for," he said.

"Get under the covers, I'm freezing!" I cried. "You make feel like I have nothing to hide from you."

He groaned and got up to get his discarded shorts. "You don't... you're perfect. I keep feeling terrible I'm not going to be able to give back what you've been giving me."

"You liked the hand jobs?"

"Of course."

"I was told I was terrible at them."

"Chad's a bastard."

"Language, Captain Rogers!" I cried, mock-offended.

He chortled. "Well, that's the appropriate term. If I ever meet him, I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll give him a knuckle sandwich."

We both laughed. "Come back to bed, Steven," I said, rubbing the empty spot in the bed as he went to the bathroom.

"Just a second. I've got to take time for good oral hygiene."

"Ugh, now I need to brush my teeth… again," I muttered, feeling like a slob for not doing so before climbing back into bed.

"You're tired," he said, running the faucet. "And I'm ready for a snooze."

"Me too. But first… I want to talk about something."

"Yeah?"

"When you're done," I said.

He brushed his teeth quickly and came to bed, kissing me on the cheek, nuzzling into me. "What did you want to talk about, doll?"

"I want to use protection our first time."

The mood suddenly snapped. "Dani, why are you bringing that up?"

"Pregnancy and STDs are no joke."

"Is there something you're not telling me? That had to do with Chad?"

"No, I'm clean. But I'm only on the pill, and we need a secondary form of birth control as back up. I'm not ready for a baby, and that would be the worst mistake."

"I'm not… Dani, we're Catholic. Both of us. We're not supposed to use birth control or condoms."

"I'm not taking a chance. The rhythm method isn't a good birth control. And I'm not taking Plan B as a backup unless I absolutely have to."

"Isn't that the abortion pill? No way am I going to let you-"

"It's not an abortion pill, it keeps you from ovulating so you don't get pregnant. I've taken it before and it's awful, but what would be worse is having a baby when we didn't plan on it. Steve, listen: it's not that I don't want to have a baby ever, I just don't want to have a baby right now . But I do want to be close with you. You're not supposed to be this young and alive right now, I don't think God will mind if we use birth control and condoms. And the only reasons that's being pushed is the Vatican and years of controlling women and their bodies. We literally cannot afford to risk having a baby right now."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Imagine having to tell my father that you knocked me up."

"I've never met your father."

"He'd be heartbroken, especially when I'm made all this effort to go to grad school. Trust me. That is not the opening conversation you want to have with him the first time you meet."

"If you say so."

"Alright, fine. We'll talk about it tomorrow, I'm exhausted, I want to go to sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Stevie."

Steve and I had another beautiful morning in bed together before I had to help him pack up and sent him off to New York on the train. I kind of hurt when we hugged goodbye for the last time (we had our goodbye kiss in private) and he climbed up the train steps into the car. I found him at the train window and waved at him as the train departed, like in the 1940s when girls said goodbye to their soldiers to send them off to war.

I hated that Steve and I were finally getting intimate, and I had to get back into school and work and him to New York to be on call. When he got home, he called me and we looked at our schedules when we'd both be off later in February and for him to come to DC sooner. We decided he'd come back to DC a week from Wednesday when he wasn't on-call. I'd be working and going to school, but we'd have some time together.

The truth was, I wanted to jump his bones just as much as he did mine. The passion part of our relationship was currently overwhelming; all I wanted was to ride him and do dirty things to him, and hopefully him to me. My first night alone in the new year, I was too worked up to sleep after our phone call. Missing him was too intense.

First times were usually kind of quick and awkward, and I couldn't fault Steve for that, but I had kind of warmed him up to learning. I knew he'd be open to listening to me. I needed to listen to him, too, although I had braved oral right away. It would take time for us to have good sex where it wasn't a novelty, I hoped.

It was in my Marital Relations class that I realized how different my relationship with Steve was. He listened to me. Chad had never listened. I opened up my phone after class and got out the pictures of Chad and me together. I started realizing how bad a relationship it had been. It wasn't just that Chad had stopped opening doors and pulling out chairs for me after a while, it was just didn't pay attention to me. He had stopped "chasing" me. Steve's pursuit of me hadn't waned in all the time we had been together, over three months, but Chad and I had had sex only six weeks after we met. Steve and I hadn't officially crossed that benchmark, yet. I feared that Steve would lose interest in me if we weren't sexually compatible in the long term.

Then, I realized it was just my depression talking.

We had something important. He spoke in the long term and had been the first to call me his girlfriend. He wrote letters to me by hand so that it was private and just between us and unhackable. We sent each other letters, even though we ended up talking on the phone at least once a day.

And I had to stop comparing Steve to Chad. They were like two totally different species that shouldn't be compared at all. And that warmed my heart, that I could have a relationship that quieted my "eating disorder" voice in my head and made my life richer. I longed to introduce Steve to my family, to welcome him in. God knows he missed having people to anchor himself to.

During the ballroom class on Tuesday night, Berney came alone, so I took him on as my partner to Instruct through. "How lucky am I, getting to dance with a pretty young girl?" He asked.

I blushed. "Any class you want, I'll dance with you," I said, and he spun me, grinning.

I saw something I hadn't wanted to see: the line of a tattoo on his arm, peeking out from under his shirt cuff.

I knew Berney was Jewish, and older. I had never considered he might be a Holocaust survivor.

There was no reason to point it out, though.

At the end of class, I have Berney a hug. "Thanks for coming out for class."

He gestured for me to come closer. "I never wanted to tell you this, but you remind me of my wife," he said. "You have her coloring when we met, did you know that?"

"I do?"

"That's what keeps this old man coming back," he said, patting my shoulder. "You bring back good memories, Danielle."

"It's nice to hear that." I kissed him on the cheek.

"I come all the way to DC and find you kissing other men?"

"Steve?" I cried, hearing his voice. I whirled around to see him filling up the doorframe, grinning. "I'll be right back," I told Berney. I ran to him, launching myself into him for a hug. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow! Did you get off early?"

"DC's still a major metropolitan, it's easy to commute from," he said, shrugging. He looked over my shoulder. "I want to meet my competition."

I took his hand to bring him over to Berney. "Berney, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend, this is Steve Rogers," I said.

"Nice to meet ya!" Berney said, and shook Steve's hand. "Where ya from, Steve?"

"Brooklyn, in New York."

"I actually spent some time in New York in the fifties," Berney said. "My brother-in-law is from there, and he came back after being in the service, and he didn't want to leave." Berney had a way of telling stories that captivated most people. Steve paid attention to him, and didn't look away as Berney told the whole story about his brother-in-law, a shoemaker. I admired that about Steve: he could give someone all his attention. "... that's how Esther and I met on Coney Island, and we were married within a week, and we stayed together for fifty-five years before she passed away."

"I always find it amazing when people have marriages that span the decades," Steve admitted.

"Don't let him let you think he's lonely, though, he brings a new partner every week!" I said.

"The nice thing about being a widower in my eighties is all the pretty ladies at my retirement village!" Berney said, conspiratorially. I laughed.

"I'm starving," Steve said, "I'm going to get something to eat and drag Dani along. Berney, would you like to join us?"

"Oh, no, it's almost my bedtime. I've got get a taxi home. You two kids have fun."

"It was nice to meet you," Steve said. "I hope I'll see you again."

"Let me know your next stand up show, we'll come," I said.

"I missed your class," Steve said once Berney was gone and I turned off the lights and picked up my satchel bag. "You know, I always wanted to learn how to dance. I never did."

I set down my satchel. "Come here," I said, turning on Jo Stanford's Sunny Side of the Street on my iPhone. "It's actually kind of easy," I admitted. "The basics, at least." I took his left hand and put it on my shoulder, then his right, placing it on my shoulder blade under my arm. "Now, strong left arm," I said. "And posture."

Steve's spine straightened.

And I was suddenly so turned on, blame it on Strictly Ballroom.

But first, dancing…

"Okay… Okay," I said more to shake myself out of the daydream I was having about him. "First step, " I said, straightening my own spine, and lifting myself onto the balls of my feet to step backward with my left foot. He followed with his right foot, and I showed him the triple set to the side and the rock back. "Feel the rhythm?"

"Yeah."

I started teaching him the simple triple liddy in East Coast Swing style, which he picked up. He did just fine when I started leading in traveling. "Okay, can you feel me leading? It's not my job to lead, it's yours, I want you to try," I said. I stopped leading, and Steve picked it up. "You're a natural!"

"I'm staring at my feet. And yours."

"Let's try the brush turn," I said.

We stayed for another half hour or so, he learned so much. I might have been able to take him out with a little more practice, but his stomach started growling. After a few hashbrown bowls at the Waffle House, Steve and I made our way back to my apartment.

"Okay, world events seem pretty calm right now, and I am on call until midnight east coast time," he said as we caught the Metro back to my neighborhood. "I'm turning my S.H.I.E.L.D. phone off at midnight and I'm not looking at it again until Thursday night."

"I'm so happy to hear that. And that I have you all to myself tonight," I admitted, picking up the last of my things and putting my coat on. I had dreamed of doing all sorts of pervy things to him once he got here, but in all honesty, I hadn't shaved my legs since the last time he left DC. I needed a shower to get ready for him— badly. "But I want to take a shower, first."

"You get first dibs. I also got a present for you."

"You did? What is it?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a present!"

"Tell me!"

"Stop whining."

"Hey!"

We laughed.

In my apartment, he got out a box of something wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper from his duffel.

"Here ya go. No more whining."

I accepted it and stuck out my tongue at him. Tearing the paper off. I discovered he had gotten me twelve hundred thread count sheets. My own sheets were maybe eight hundred. "You bought me new sheets!" I cried, delighted. "Good ones, too! Better than the ones I have!"

"To replace the one I ruined. I promise, no more grabbing things in the heat of the moment," I said, elated that he thought about it. It was so perfect and thoughtful, I almost cried.

"They're beautiful!" I admitted. "I love them, thank you!"

"Do you want to put them on the bed?"

"You've got to watch them first."

He groaned. "I thought we could… break 'em in, y'know?"

"We will eventually. I'm taking a shower," I announced, grabbing a lacy bra and panty set in coral-pink color and slipping into the bathroom. In the post-Christmas sale at Victoria's Secret, they had been cheap. I cranked the wall heater in the bathroom before getting into the shower.

As I came out of the bathroom, I pulled on my bathrobe as Steve came out of my kitchenette with a steaming hot mug of tea. He had already set up the terra cotta planter heater system and the room was warming up.

"You deserve this," he said. "You're a good dance teacher."

"You are so sweet," I accepted it and took a tentative sip. "There should be some hot water left in the shower. Hopefully, I didn't use it all."

He kissed me quickly. "Be right back," and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

I sat down on the bed with Lourdes Marie and got out one of my school books. The first week was always the heaviest with reading assignments, and I still needed to catch up. Being downright horny didn't help with my concentration no matter how many times I got my bullet out, and Steve was naked in the next room over, getting a shower. I think I read the same page 5 times before I realized I hadn't absorbed a single thing. I put my book down and finished my mug of tea when Steve finally came out, his hair damp and combed, freshly shaved and in a t-shirt and pair of flannel grey pajama pants hanging loosely on his hips.

"Come to bed!" I cried.

"You don't have to tell me twice," he replied, tossing his dirty clothes into the laundry sack in his duffle.

I shed my bathrobe, flinging to the floor, and got under the covers.

He looked at me, and pulled his own shirt over his head with on hand, reaching to the back of his neck, and yanking it forward, before he climbed under the sheets, exposing his torso of perfection.

"You're turning off the lights?" He asked.

"I… do you want them off?"

"I um…"

"How this?" I asked, switching off the lamp, and the room was filled with the dim light of Steve's World War II heating system.

He sighed nervously. "You know, I thought this was going to be like going on auto-pilot. You know, I know all the technical stuff I'm 'supposed to do, but the moment comes and… I don't know, never mind."

"It's okay to be nervous," I said. "Do you still want to do this?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Come here," I whispered, reaching for him. I kissed his brow and began to stroke his hair. "We don't have to do anything right away."

I felt his muscles relax in my arms. I rocked him a little, and kissed his hairline a little more, rubbing his bare back.

"You look really pretty," he said as I lazily kissed down his temple, to the corner of his jaw. "You always do."

"I was going to say the same thing about you."

I liked the feeling of his chest against mine, even if my bra was in the way. I ran a hand over his chest and looked into his eyes. I saw so many things swimming around in them. "It's never too late to say no. I'll listen," I said.

His lips brushed mine. "I want this."

He pressed his weight onto me and pressed me onto my back, kissing me gently. I pulled my arm up to wrap around his neck and pulled him into the kiss. His hands slid up my slides, cupping my ribs, molding my shoulder blades. He hesitated.

"You're doing fine," I assured him.

He kissed me to break the tension. I kissed him back, opening my lips, and I brushed my tongue gently against his lips. He met me back. We kissed for a while as our hands explored each other's bodies, and I felt his cock poking out through his pajama pants. It was obvious he wasn't wearing shorts, too as I rubbed his back. I slid my fingers under the waistband in the pants to discover hot, firm, bare skin of his ass, confirming my suspicions. He assisted me with pushing his pants off, leaving him naked in my arms, his cock against my leg.

I looked into his eyes again. "You're okay?"

"I'm great."

We continued kissing and he struggled to unhook my bra. I sat up, and he rolled into his side, and unhooked it for him, tossing it to the floor, and struggled with removing my panties under the covers while he reached for my breast. "Just a second," I said softly, struggling, then getting my underwear off my legs, letting it join the bra on the floor.

I was terrified and excited all at once. As much as I wanted from this, my first time to have sex in over a year, I wanted it to be a good experience for him, first of all. I took his wrist and kissed his palm before placing it on my breast.

"I've got condoms in the nightstand," I offered.

"I brought some, too," he said, reaching for it. "Dani?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a little scared."

"I am, too."

"Really? Why?"

"What if I screw this up?"

"You won't. It'll be me messing things up."

"Just lay down and relax. I'll do what I can."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

I kissed along this chest, but he stopped me, reaching over to the nightstand. He didn't seem so interested in foreplay, unfortunately. He wanted to get straight to business. I guess I could give him that.

"There's lube in the drawer, can you hand me that?" I asked.

He handed me the lube and I put a small squirt of it inside myself and stroked my clit a few times while he put the condom on beside me. He was trembling, his hands kept dropping the condom.

"Let me try?" I asked, sitting up.

He sighed shakily as I picked up the dropped condom.

"You know how to put one on, right?"

He nodded.

I pinched the tip of the condom, putting it on top of the head of his cock and got up on my knees, using my mouth to roll it down. The latex stretched out with his rigid member, groans escaping his lips as I to him into my mouth. "That's how I like to do it," I said, and pushed him down onto the mattress. I slid a leg over his hips to mount him and took his dick into my hand. His chest was heaving up and down, he had a hand over his eyes. "Let me make this easy," I said softly. "You're still okay?"

He nodded, gasping for air.

I slid down his cock, parting my slick inner lips with my first two fingers while bringing him inside me, and his hand flew off his face so he could watch. "It's okay, it's okay," I coaxed. "Take it easy."

He was almost sobbing and sat up to hold me. I lifted myself up, riding his cock, and slid back down as his head leaned against my shoulder.

"You're alright?" I asked.

"Y-yes," he groaned.

I slipped my fingers down to my clit to stroke myself as I thrust up and down on him, he squeezed my torso in his arms. "Touch me, Steve," I breathed. His hand gripped my right breast, and he lowered his head to take it into his mouth. "Yes!" I cried, feeling his tongue swirl around the tip. His mouth was hungry against my skin, but I felt him seize up, and then cum inside me. He cried out.

"Yes, that's it… that's it," I said softly as his eyes went glassy and he heaved shaky breaths. I held him as he slowly laid back down onto his back.

We hadn't lasted too long, but I hadn't expected him to. It had been awkward, but special at the same time. Although virginity was a social construct, I had just dragged him into the world of sex.

I laid atop him as he tried to catch his breath. We didn't talk, but I felt him go soft inside me. His warm hands roamed my back, stroking the skin covered in chill bumps.

As I felt him go completely flaccid, I finally got up on my knees and slid him out of me carefully. The condom he was wearing was a slick, wet mess, and I took it off him, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, disposing of it for him.

Steve still didn't speak. He as still shivering a little bit.

I took the tissues to the bathroom to toss it and shut the door to pee. After a quick wipe off, I wet down a fresh washcloth with hot water to go into the main room to wipe him down, wearing my bathrobe.

In the main room, Steve was still laying naked atop the covers. Good, I needed to clean him up before he fell asleep. Waking up covered in dry sweat after sex was gross. "Are you okay?" I asked, wiping him off.

"Yeah. I'm amazing right now."

I tossed the washcloth in the general direction of the bathroom and opened the nightstand drawer for my bullet, only to have him grab my wrist.

"No."

"What's wrong?" I asked, holding my robe closed at the cleavage with my other hand.

"You didn't..."

I could have lied. I could have said the way I came was quiet and hard to notice. Chad had conditioned me to give him what he hadn't earned by shaming me and humiliating me. Steve hadn't done that. There was no way I'd pretend and stroke his ego unnecessarily. That would have been unfair and dishonest. I owed him honesty: I shrugged and shook my head.

"I wasn't any good?"

"It wasn't about me tonight."

"I wasn't-"

"You were perfect," I assured him before he even had the chance to vocalize it. He had been so vulnerable and honest and intimate with me, the quickness and the awkwardness didn't bother me. It was endearing. He had trusted me not to be a bitch and make him feel bad. My words were the truth, though. He had gone above and beyond what Chad had done for me.

"But I didn't make you…"

"Why are you asking?" I asked.

"You're joking, right? I thought that was part of it."

"I guess… I could have lied and faked it. But… you never lie to me. Even when you probably should have and I'd have excused it when I found out the truth."

"I wasn't as good as I wanted to be, then?"

"No, you were. I promise."

"I'm not able to do that to you, then?"

"That remains to be seen," I said. "We're still earning each other. And our orgasms are harder to make happen sometimes than yours."

"I thought…" he said glumly.

"Listen, I never have during sex before. I guess I just can't during sex. If you want to work on it next time, maybe."

"I didn't know. I want to know how to. Can I, um… help with that?"

Chad had never cared about my end of sexual satisfaction until I complained about it. And then said I was needy and gave me a rocket vibrator to masturbate with on my own time, he said. It was a humiliation, so I had trained myself not to complain. It was adorable that Steve wanted to make sure I came, too. Sweet, too. Downright cute. I cupped his cheek and saw the sheer look of humility in his eyes.

He tugged the bathrobe off me, letting it pool to the floor at my feet, and guided me back into the bed. He took the bullet and turned it on, and it buzzed in his hand, lighting up. I could see him, flushed pink, even in the semi-darkness. "Can you show me how to do this?" he asked shyly.

It occurred to me that Steve had never seen a woman's vagina in real life before. He was so pure-hearted I had the feeling he hardly knew what he was doing, the most intimate part of me was a mystery to him. I parted my legs slightly. He looked, mesmerized at my anatomy. That in itself turned me on as he took the bullet and ran it over my inner lips.

I gasped slightly at the intimate touch and the vibration against my lips.

"Right here," I said, taking his hand holding the bullet by the wrist. He didn't resist.

He rolled over onto his side and I slipped my arms around his shoulders to draw him in closer. The heat pooled between my legs and I felt the shiver of anticipation as the tiny vibrator buzzed enthusiastically against my clit. I gasped at the electric shock that reverberated through my body, arching against him. He caught my gasp with his mouth, kissing me. "More," I begged. He partially rolled over on top of me and I felt my nipples graze his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut to prolong the feeling. I opened my eyes to see a smirk on his face. "It feels so good, touch me!" I begged.

"What?" A look of panic crossed his face.

I brushed the vibrator out of his hand and leg it vibrate away between my legs. "Right here," I said, taking his thumb, placing it on my wet clit. "Right there, just…" I let go of his hand, and thumb brushed gently against the little nub. A strangled gasp came out of the back my throat. He sat up and I parted my legs more for him to see what he was touching. I felt his fingers brush my inner lips and press gently into my folds. "Oh, yes, I- please don't stop!" I gasped, mewling like a kitten, my toes curling. He slipped a nervous finger inside me, making my back arch off the mattress and I shrieked. I didn't even hear my neighbor banging on the wall telling us to shut up.

At my reaction, he slipped another finger into me, pumping them in and out. "How's that?"

"Perfect," I said, feeling myself break out into a sweat. I was practically humping his hand, and I felt him slip a third finger inside me. "Too much!"

"Okay, okay," he whispered to reassure me, going back down to two inside. He laid down again, hand still finger-fucking me, and pressed a few soft kisses along my shoulder.

I had been so lonely before I met him, alone with nothing but my cat in a dingey DC apartment, no hope of ever feeling loved and cared for ever again. Was this love? Or just hormones and endorphins? I couldn't tell right at this moment.

He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I kissed him back eagerly, and his fingers curved inside me at just the right angle as his thumb stroked my clit, and came, gasping into his mouth, my legs clamping closed around his hand. I squeezed some, gasping in a quick succession.

This was real. Awkward, he was learning, but good at listening. And it was actually... good.