Work Text:
It was a room with only one window.
The kind that glowed anew with each new morning across the sentimental floral wallpaper you loved so dearly. One that housed a warm soul, sometimes more.
Small, but not so much in the way that one might fit a familiar too-small t-shirt on a too-broad form yet grand with the lush view of the outskirts of a city, green and gold.
Books piled in uneven stack after stack after stack and teetering by your desk. A mug that always found home in its corner, a little too close to the edge and often forgotten in the depth of night among whispers and that hot, breathless kind of affection that glowed sweet between skin.
The best part about this room was how the light of the dawn shimmered across the sheets, across his face, the curve of the bridge that drew a careful nose down to pink lips. Softened by wild furs and darkened strands of gold, like a worn, ornate frame of a brilliant painting you dreamt of once before.
Steve.
Achingly beautiful Steve.
You were sure even the rising sun felt itself shy in his presence. So enamoured you were on those mornings when his presence took mesmerising comfort between the sheets. Always for him. Some days for you.
A flaxen strand fell across long lashes that protected blue. Sleepy lips pressed to a quiet, waiting mouth and you felt his hand drift to cradle your face, warm skin against your cheek. Urging you on as the smile spread across his face.
Steve pulled away with a reluctance that trickled through his heart.
“Morning lover.”
Blue eyes sparkled on yours as he turned his head to brush his lips against your palm curling that golden strand behind his ear.
You adored these early pockets of time, so familiar and sweet.
Steve gifted you a smile as he always did. Sat up with the dawn and pressed another kiss to your upturned crown. He pulled you from the covers, stretching up and up and onto your feet to let your lips meet his own like clockwork. Wrapped strong arms across your shoulders, deepening the kiss, hot and sweet, before letting go with a glint in those blues as the library of his mind shuffled through the needs of the day.
You had to get to the children. He had to get to the King. You both had to get to Bucky.
Eventually, anyway.
Eyes made pretty eyes as each other in the reflection of your small bathroom. Affection, a cool sweetness in the air of your tiled bathroom as you brushed your teeth. Hip nudged another hip as he finished first, flicking water at your scrunched up nose and furrowed brow and pressed a kiss to your waiting temple before striding quickly back to your room.
Bittersweet warmth from your favourite coffee was welcomed to your lungs when you entered your kitchen a little while later, face cleaned and mildly more awake.
Steve had already dressed. Star-spangled shadow and sleeves rolled past forearms that tensed and rolled with a strength of heart you could only dream of.
You reached for your mug, held high in his waiting hand and met his eyes, burnished sly and blue. Your pout to his smile bargained in a baritone laugh as you pressed that promised kiss to his mouth.
Prize received, Steve handed you the mug. Black with a dash of milk and the feeling of utter rapture in your throat as you took that first sip.
“Just how you like it?”
You could only groan satisfaction in response as he brushed those sweet lips to your waiting cheek, then your temple, curling a strand away from your brow as he did so.
Steve felt you watch him with sleepy eyes and shy-licked lips as he gathered his things. Kimoyo beads. A pager. Leather gloves that felt familiar and worn.
He glanced to you at last, tracing his gaze through your face and in your skin. Remnants of the night like invisible paint across your shoulder, your neck, your hips. You felt its memory burn through your face, into your chest and etched its sweet, electric way between your thighs from his green-speckled eyes of blue. You had to look away, feeling the smile bashful on your lips and hot through your heart.
“You’re going to be late,” you told him as a short eternity stretched by. Hopped off your kitchen stool and stepped closer to him for that last gifted kiss. Always a small, quick one, but you loved it all the same.
Steve smiled that heartbreaking smile you adored with the light of every sun in the universe.
“I know.”
And he kissed you once more. Slow and so sweet. Lips pushed soft against your own, its fire sparking through your mouth to your heart.
Then leathered palms cupped your face, threading through your hair as lips deepened the kiss. Tongues rushed hot and lush in your mouth, and traversing through your skin and muscles, his broad form caging you to the counter and you almost whimpered. Hands travelled across his suit and brushed through long, golden locks as his own mapped their way to your waist, beneath your bed clothes and found warm skin.
His touch released the gasp from your throat like a detonator on a firebomb and Steve nearly considered calling the King to postpone the meeting.
You swore you saw the sun rise in those eyes as he pulled away, mug safe on the counter for how long, you could not tell.
Another kiss. The small, quick one that you loved.
“I’ll see you later?” A statement more than a question to your dazed expression. He chuckled and smacked his lips to your crown, quick and triumphant.
And then he was gone with a quiet sparkle in his eye. Your apartment door slid close behind his broad and steady form, taking the best part of the morning with him.
It shone sweet in the captivated room of your heart.