Steve woke up with hair tickling his nose, and a comforting, warm weight against his side. His legs were tangled with smooth, long ones, and one of his arms was completely numb, supporting Charlotte's neck.
Charlotte was breathing deeply, with a few sighs in between. She was still asleep, but that was expected. Steve had come to realize that she lacked any sort of internal clock, and that she could sleep through the day without noticing.
She was a contrast to him, a soldier who had been drilled into being up way before the sun even came up so that he could get in a jog and some kind of work out before eating breakfast and beginning his day. Charlotte would set three alarms on her phone, all of them more or less one hour before she actually had to get up. Steve was sort of amazed to discover that she would sleep through the first shrill cry of the alarm, toss on the second alarm, before she would disarm the last one.
She had a routine after that, too. She would sleep a few more minutes, before groaning loudly, and tossing the covers off of her. She'd then sleep a few more minutes before she began shivering with cold, at which point she'd lay on her back staring blankly at the ceiling for another few minutes. It was not until she had twenty minutes to spare before she had to leave the house for either school or work that she'd suddenly jump out of bed, scrambling, rushing around trying to make herself presentable. She'd rush out the door with three-it was always three-minutes to spare, completely forgoing breakfast.
That had been their separate routines, before they'd began to occasionally sleep over together at her place (never Steve's place. He didn't want her at Avengers' Tower with Tony's knowing smirks and lewd remarks). The first few times were filled with blushes, but always with a broken schedule on his part since, even with the blushing and bashfulness, he still looked forward to waking up with Charlotte. It wasn't that he was ashamed, or anything of the sort, because, really, waking up next to Charlotte gave him the feeling of belonging and home. No, it wasn't that. It was just that, well, he was from a time where boyfriends and girlfriends did not share a bed before marriage.
Sure, Bucky always seemed to find the girls that shared their beds before marriage quite easily, but not everyone was like that. Maybe it was that Steve lacked any skills or looks back then to draw the ladies like his best friend had, but he didn't think serious relationships worked like Bucky's flings did. And, yes, there were a lot of shotgun weddings back then because of unexpected pregnancies, but there was always such taboo about it, that Steve had never considered being intimate with a girl before marriage.
No, that was only half the truth. He had been a man back then, too. Maybe he was smaller than most men-than most women, really-and was sick all the time, but he had been a male back then still, with male parts and male urges. He was also a soldier, and Tony could call him a prude all he wanted, but Steve knew the thoughts of a lonely man that had seen too much and lacked a woman's touch. He knew about pin-ups (he'd even had some) and show girls (even if he could never really make himself agree to the invitations) and much too much details about a woman's anatomy and where to touch exactly-men talked about things like that when angsty.
Yet, even with the blunt solicitations of the show girls he travelled with, and the many opportunities he had been given to visit brothels with his men, he had never let himself do anything of the sort. It had been tempting, always, but the back of his mind reminded him that he should be committed to a dame, and one dame alone for anything like that to work. Back then, it had been Peggy, but that hadn't worked. Charlotte took his today, and that was working.
Steve always pictured being intimate with a woman he would call wife. Perhaps he would be alright with making love to and with a woman who he was committed to; the kind of commitment that involved meeting the parents, flowers and sincere 'I love you's' already exchanged.
That wasn't how it happened with Charlotte.
It was before the battle that had landed him in the hospital and Charlotte had confessed-finally-her love for him.
Steve and Charlotte had been in a relationship for the past four or so months when the Avengers had been called to the middle of Kentucky to deal with a madman that had somehow learned how to create portals. Except, he didn't quite know how to control the seven portals he had created, and creatures that even Thor had trouble placing were quickly coming out, all big and horrendous.
The beginning of the fighting had been contained and fine, with Tony's obnoxious commentary through the comms link tolerable enough that Steve only yelled at him twice in an hour. Bruce hadn't been needed before that.
It all went downhill fast after that. The van where SHIELD had Bruce sheltered in had been thrown carelessly through the air by a giant creature that had escaped the confines of the parameter the rest of the Avengers had kept until then. The Hulk had come out quickly after that, and chaos reigned from then on. Thor, like many other times, had fried his comm link when he began summoning lightning, while Clint quickly ran out of arrows and was resorting to shooting guns and anything sharp in his person. He was still calling out to his teammates from above a windmill near one of the portals, while Tony tried desperately to find a way of closing the portals. Natasha was out of ammo, and was fighting with her fists and killer thighs (as Tony eloquently put it), while Steve tried to come up with some sort of way of getting more help.
And then Phil Coulson was ordering all SHIELD personnel to arm themselves, and Steve could only watch in horror as no less than a hundred men (human men and women without serums or titanium suites or specialty weapons) began pouring into the parameter.
It was another hour or so before Tony, along with a SHIELD agent that knew a bit about astrophysics, dismantled the machine that created the portals. The portals fell easily enough, disintegrated in front of their eyes, in fact, but, unlike the Chitauri they had fought in New York, these aliens were still alive and fighting.
It would have been fine, the battle and portals and time and even the bruises, but Steve was horrified when they had killed the last of the aliens only to look around-really look around-and see the bodies of SHIELD agents scattered among the alien parts. There were only a few of those agents ordered to fight left standing, all looking lost and injured, and Steve could do nothing but clench his fists and jaw.
Even Tony Stark, the man that always had a quip about everything, was solemn when he joined Steve's side. They had then surveyed the land in quite. And when Phil Coulson and Maria Hill joined his side, Steve yelled.
He yelled about murder, and everything that was wrong with SHIELD. He yelled about fragility and how he had it handled, how he was appalled, and horrified with Coulson's behavior. How he was now responsible for the death of dozens of SHIELD agents because they had become his men and his charge the minute they had stepped into his parameter.
Coulson and Hill took it allwith hard faces, unwavering, if not a little guiltily staring, and said nothing as Steve barked orders, going as far as threatening Hill if she did not have the Quinjet ready within the next few minutes.
The Quinjet had not been for him. He'd ordered anyone left alive on it, and even Natasha, the one that even Steve felt trepidation towards ordering sometimes, silently boarded the aircraft, holding onto a limping Clint. The only one stupid enough to stay had been Tony, who had let Steve yell some more about irresponsibility and insubordination before the enginner flipped him off and told him to get over himself.
Steve and Tony ended up staying to supervise the body count along with Coulson, and had boarded another Quinjet full of body bags back to New York later on that night.
Once in the city, Steve forgot how to think, and rode out of headquarters in his uniform still, grime and blood and slime still covering him.
He began thinking again when Charlotte opened the door to the little apartment her and her two roommates shared. It was one in the morning, but Charlotte looked awake enough. She was wearing and NYU t-shirt and a pair of spandex shorts, her hair in a wet ponytail. She was devoid of make-up, staring at him with huge, naked eyes.
"You're alive," she said, her eyes searching his.
He found himself suddenly sagging, and she caught his heavy form with a huff as he half-sobbed a shuddering, "yeah."
"Let's get you cleaned up," she muttered against his cheek, laying a soft kiss to the salty and dirty skin of his cheek before she half dragged him to the bathroom.
He felt numb, like everything was weighing his down as she sat him on the toilet bowl with the lid closed, and began unbuckling Kevlar and under armor from his upper torso. He watched her as she worked his clothes off, not even being able to bring himself to help or even protest when she hefted him up and started unbuckling and unzipping his pants.
Steve knew he should have felt embarrassed, should have covered himself when he was completely naked in front of her, but he was still numb. She turned to turn on the water on the shower stall, and then she was undressing herself. Steve knew he should have felt something then and there, but he was still so numb, and he felt like he was under the ice again.
He woke up a little when she pushed him into the shower stall where the water streaming down was scalding hot and creating steam around him. She went in after him, and, with little strength that he felt was not his own, he managed to stand upright under the flowing water, his arms bracing himself against the wall in front of him, encasing Charlotte between himself, the wall, and his arms.
She began to wash him slowly, scrubbing away dirt and alien blood with a soapy purple loofa that smelled like grapefruit. He thinks that's what woke him up, the familiar smell of grapefruit that seemed to follow her, because he was suddenly hugging her close, his face buried in her neck while his body trembled with muffled, tear-less sobs.
She held him tight, then, and let him sob against her, his body shaking as he held her even closer. She said nothing, and held him for a few minutes before she began moving again, running honey scented shampoo (her hair always smelt of honey) through his hair, and giving him another scrub down with grapefruit body wash. He let he do everything, then, his sobs dying off quickly enough, and returned to just watching her, his arms loosely holding her waist as she cleaned him. When she was done with him, she ran the loofa through the water until it was purple clean again and quickly scrubbed herself of whatever grime Steve had transferred onto her.
When she shut off the water, they stood looking at each other for a few seconds before she ran her fingers through his hair tenderly. He shuddered and leaned into her touch. She smiled, and moved to get out.
"I'll see if Jay has any clothes you can borrow," she said as she wrapped a towel around herself and walked off, but not before handing him another towel to dry off with.
Jay was one of her roommates. When Steve had first discovered that Charlotte was living with another man, he'd been a little affronted, if not jealous, but Charlotte had merely rolled her eyes with a smile when he'd tried to casually bring up Jay in a conversation about her past beaus (which only consisted of a bad prom date, and an attempted relationship with a guy that had gotten too handsy on the third date). She had explained that Jay was just a friend, the kind that paid his rent on time and did his own dishes, and that Steve was not allowed to get jealous. So he didn't-at least not in front of her.
She came back wearing a form fitting tank top and a pair of purple panties. Steve had gotten himself dried off at that point, and had swallowed uneasily when she'd walked in, handing him the clothes, and putting his uniform in a black garbage bag.
He met her back in her room, where she was sitting on the edge of her twin size bed, staring at the ground. When she heard him approach, she looked up, smiling gently at him and taking his hand. He sat beside her, and it was as if everything in him was suddenly aware, like every cell in his body had jumped-started even when he had not slept in over 48 hours.
He remembered kissing her roughly, hungrily, to remind himself that he was alive and she was alive and that he hadn't just been responsible for the destruction of dozens of lives. And it wasn't awkward. Not in the fumbling and uncoordinated way that he had imagined making love to Charlotte for the first time would be like. It was steady and precise, seeming like he had known her his whole life, like they'd done this millions of times.
And it was scorching heat, and eye-opening, and passionate, and everything he had and hadn't been hoping for.
That morning, even with only a couple of hours of sleep in him, his body jerked awake at around seven that morning, a late start even for himself, but he found himself pinned to the bed. It took a bit to remember what had happened before he was suddenly blushing to himself, and becoming painfully aware of the state of undress of the unconscious Charlotte on top of him.
The bed was small enough for just him, and he remembered lifting her on top of him amid her weak protests, and holding her close against him before he found a forgotten blanket on the floor to tuck around them.
He could feel her cheek against his chest, her left hand clutching at his right bicep, her whole right arm dangling off the bed. Her hair, now dry and alive, was tickling his face, the thick curls moving with every breath he took. He couldn't bring himself to move, though, as his left arm was curled around her waist, with his right arm entrapped by the wall and her hand.
So he'd laid there until her phone came awake with a shrill cry at 7:30 am. He'd moved to turn it off, but let it go to instead wait in astonishment as Charlotte didn't even flinch. The next alarm went off at 7:45 am, and he made no move to turn it off, waiting to see what would happen. Charlotte merely mumbled something that sounded like his name, turning her face away from the shrill cry of the alarm before she settled again. He'd smiled goofily to himself when he heard her mumble his name under her breath and waited to see what the next alarm would bring from her.
It turned out the next one consisted of her volunteeringly making herself cold, and in the process chilling Steve with her. But he allowed the blanket to hit the floor with a wince, his mind trying to comprehend how in the world the girl on top of him had not noticed it wasn't just her in bed. Mostly, he was amazed at her resistance to getting up. She slept on for a few more minutes before she slowly came to, shivering slightly against him and making him blush all over again.
She had groaned a little then, before she froze and lifted her face to look at him with wide eyes.
"Hi," she said, looking at him before blushing to the roots of her hair, the color blooming along her collarbone and…Steve looked up.
He smiled shyly at her. "Good morning."
There was a long pause as Steve saw Charlotte try to come up with words time and time again before she blushed even harder and looked at him. "Would it be normal to say that I am totally cool with waking up totally naked on top of you after a very…great night, but completely embarrassed that you got to see how painfully hard it is for me to wake up every morning?"
He'd laughed hard then, and she'd joined him before they calmed down and talked in bed the rest of the morning. They needed to talk, Charlotte had insisted and Steve had agreed, about what had happened that had made him come to her in the state that he had come.
Not once, that night or that day, did Steve say he loved her, nor did she, but that would come later.
Today was different, though. She'd stayed over at the Tower with him, with no interruption since he had his own floor and it was no one's business (and by that, Steve took it to mean Tony) whether he was intimate with his girlfriend or not.
They had been in a physical relationship for about three months now, and he was proud to say that there was not much blushing going on anymore. They'd become comfortable with each other, and had created their own routine.
Steve woke up Charlotte now. He was about to start active duty again soon since he was still recovering from that alien stab the month prior, so he knew his mornings with Charlotte would become fewer. She was already teasing him, saying that she would mostly only miss the nice wake up from him, and not the dog breath. That had earned her a rather bold slap to her behind. He'd sputtered an apology when he'd realized what he'd done until Charlotte started laughing, telling him how much she loved him.
Steve didn't go out before sunrise to jog and work-out anymore. He'd stay in bed with her until seven (she had decided that, if they were to compromise, she was willing to give up some sleep if he was willing to sleep a bit more with her), and then he'd wake her up. It didn't always mean they'd be up right away, since Charlotte was cuddly in the mornings, and that often led to a whole other work-out in and of itself.
They would then take a shower together too, as Charlotte wickedly put it, "to save water, of course," before they'd eat breakfast together. That was another compromise she made, since she tended to skip that meal. Her roommates would sometimes join the breakfast, but Steve had found that, apart from sometimes joining them for movie nights or breakfast, her roommates, Jay and Lauren, would mostly stay to themselves. That meant no teasing, and a blushing-free environment that Steve knew the Tower would not allow.
But today, she'd stayed at the Tower and he was already formulating plans on how to keep both of them out of the billionaire's radar.
"Captain," JARVIS, Tony's AI suddenly piped up, his volume low. "Sir would like me to inform you that he is aware Ms. Owens has stayed over and would like to welcome her into the family, as he put it, at breakfast today."
Charlotte groaned, mumbling something under her breath and burying her face into Steve's shoulder.
Steve felt like swearing. Of course the meddling engineer knew Charlotte was in the building with him.
"Did you tell him, JARVIS?" Steve had to ask, suddenly feeling betrayed by the artificial voice.
"I'm afraid Sir does have access to the elevator cameras, Captain. My job was merely to inform him that you were in the building last night as he wanted to discuss a few things with you. I was told not to bother you, Captain, after Sir requested a live feed of your elevator."
Steve almost blushed, except that he told himself that he was allowed to kiss his girlfriend all he wanted in elevators. Cameras be damned, he told himself.
Instead, Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course he watched the elevator feed," he remarked more to himself than anybody else.
Charlotte suddenly stiffen beside him. "Please tell me there is nobody else in this room and you are merely talking to yourself." She whispered.
Steve chuckled, pulling her flush against him. JARVIS had once informed him that no one had access to the cameras in the private quarters, not even Tony. And while he still didn't like the idea of cameras everywhere, he knew Tony enough to know that the man respected privacy. To a degree.
"That's just JARVIS." He commented, kissing the top of her head briefly.
"Good morning, Ms. Owens." The AI spoke up, making Charlotte sit up, pulling the sheets closer to herself. She looked around frantically, trying to place where the voice was coming from.
Her eyes finally settled on Steve, questioning. "JARVIS is Tony's AI. It takes a while to get used to him."
"As in Artificial Intelligence?" Charlotte asked, her mouth suddenly forming an excited grin.
"At your service, Ms. Owens." JARVIS supplied, sounding a bit smug. Only Tony Stark could add smugness into a computer system.
Charlotte was full on grinning now, looking more excited than Steve had ever seen before. "Charlotte's fine…Mr. JARVIS?"
"JARVIS will suffice, Ms. Owens. I'm afraid my programing only allows for proper addressing of those within the tower."
"That's ok." Charlotte responded, her grin still in place and looking at Steve as if to ask why he wasn't as excited as she was.
"I was more scared of him than anything in the beginning." Steve shrugged, grinning as well because Charlotte had that power on him.
"May I remind you again about breakfast, Captain? Sir is getting impatient, and is willing to override the code to your floor to come get you himself." JARVIS intervened.
"Breakfast?" Charlotte asked.
And that's how Steve found himself willing himself not to blush as he and Charlotte stepped off the elevator onto the communal floor, where the rest of the Avengers and Pepper were milling around. Clint and Bruce, like most mornings, were doing the actual cooking, Pepper was checking her emails on a Stark tablet at the table, and Natasha chopped fruit expertly on the kitchen island. Thor, as usual, was drinking coffee without care of the degree of hotness to the drink, eating Oreos out of the packaging; Steve knew he'd eat all of them before breakfast was actually served.
The only out of place picture was Tony. Usually, the man was completely zoned out at breakfast, only showing signs of life after his third cup of coffee. Today, though, the man sat on a bar stool by the kitchen island, almost buzzing with energy, his eyes quickly fixated towards Steve and Charlotte when they stepped off the elevator. The wicked grin that lit up his face was indication enough to Steve that breakfast had been a bad idea.
"Well, good morning, there," Tony greeted them loudly, making sure everyone turned to look at them.
"Good morning," Charlotte replied, looking far more confident than Steve felt. God, he loved that woman.
"Great night last night, huh?" Tony asked as the couple stepped closer.
Pepper stepped up, then, glaring at Tony in a manner that told him to behave. "Pepper Potts." She introduced herself to Charlotte, extending a hand for her to shake.
"I know…I mean, um, nice to meet you." Charlotte blushed lightly, looking awestruck. "I-I-uh-I wrote an essay about you last year for a woman's study class. I wasn't able to get an interview, because, duh, why would you want to be interviewed by a college student just for a class assignment. But…I should just stop talking now, I know, but I am a big fan of you."
Pepper smiled in amusement. "It's nice to meet you too."
Charlotte nodded, fiddling with one of the buttons of the cardigan she had borrowed from Steve.
"Well, this is just plain abnormal. Did you know she totally glared at me the first time she met me?" Tony piped up, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"I did not glare at you!" Charlotte protested, embarrassment forgotten.
"No one would blame you if you did, really." Pepper said, laughing lightly.
"That's just plain offending. Really, I thought you were on my side." Tony mocked glared at Pepper.
The woman just smiled, "Only 12% of the time."
Tony froze, narrowing his eyes, "still not over that, are you?"
Pepper shrugged, and turned to Charlotte. "I hope you can join us for breakfast? Bruce and Clint are cooking."
And while breakfast was full of innuendos from Tony and quiet snickers from Clint, Steve found himself smiling like a fool more than once when he'd catch Charlotte in conversation with Bruce, or rolling her eyes at Tony's remarks. Because, really, weird morning routines and all, Steve was in love with Charlotte, and odd, almost awkward breakfasts with his teammates, Pepper and his girlfriend were something he could find himself looking forward to.